Page 4

I hesitate, struggling to find the right words to articulate how I’m feeling. “I always pictured myself wearing Mom’s dress, you know. It was supposed to be my connection to her. But Henry wanted something modern, something that…”

“Something that doesn’t feel like you,” Briar finishes.

Camilla moves closer, her eyes filled with understanding. “Lucy, we can add more lace if you like, or maybe we could take some fabric from your mom’s gown and sew it in so it still feels like something of hers is part of the dress?”

“Thank you, Camilla. I would like that very much.” Emotion lodges in my throat. “It’s a gorgeous gown. It’s not that I—”

“Oh, I know. Please don’t think a thing about it.” She resumes pinning the hem.

“Your mom would want you to be happy, Lucy. That’s all that matters.” Charlotte’s words wrap me in comfort.

I nod, swallowing back the lump forming in my throat. “I know. It’s just… hard to let go of what I thought this moment would be.”

Magnolia catches my reflection in the mirror. “But you still look like a princess, Lucy. Just like when we were kids.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes.

“I better call Emma.” I reach for my phone, eager to share the moment with my best friend, who had to stay behind to help prep flowers for a wedding I have this coming weekend.

“Lucy!” she answers, and her face fills my screen.

“Hey, Em.” I hold the phone up, showing my reflection. “Here it is!”

“Oh, wow, Lucy! You look like you could be on the cover of that damn magazine.”

“Thanks. I feel like I could, wearing this dress.” It really is a beautiful dress. I’m just so caught up in my feelings.

“I can’t wait to try on bridesmaid’s dresses.”

“Well, Camilla has pulled several samples to choose—” Henry’s name flashes on my screen. “Hey, Emma, Henry’s calling.”

“Wait—don’t answer! You can’t let him see you in the dress! It’s bad luck!” Emma urges.

“It’s only voice, but he should be on his flight. I better take this to make sure everything’s okay.”

“Okay, well, tell him I said hello and that I’m looking forward to finally meeting him when he comes to Magnolia Grove in a couple weeks.”

“Will do.” I blow her a kiss and switch over. “Hello, Henry? Is everything okay?”

“Lucy, we need to talk.”

“What’s wrong?” I can tell by the tone of his voice that something is gravely wrong.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do this? Do what?” My pulse starts to race, my heart pounding at the dread his words are conjuring up in me.

“I’m not gonna make it.”

“What? Are you okay? What happened?”

“Lucy. I’m not coming.” My fiancé drops a bomb. He knew this was important to me. I step down off the pedestal and nearly fall, knocked off-balance by his declaration. “I’m fine. I’m just—I can’t do this. I’m not gonna make it.” His voice is laced with tension.

Please say this isn’t happening.

“Okay? Did you miss your flight?” My problem-solving skills kick into overdrive, and my mind is already plotting one million and one ways to get him to me… to our interview.

“No. Yes—I missed my flight, but only because I’m waiting on another one. I got offered a job in Milan for the week.”