I let it go, not wanting to bother exposing her. I didn’t even feel the need. This wedding, this whole thing, was just to fulfill my father’s last wish—to see me settled, happy. As for Derick and whoever he wanted to keep close? I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.
The boutique was nearly empty when we walked in, the assistant immediately rushing over to greet us. But instead of me, the bride-to-be, they focused on Derick and Becky.
“What kind of gown would you like, miss?” the assistant asked eagerly.
Becky burst out laughing. “Oh, no, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not the bride; I’m his best friend. She’s the one he’s marrying.” She pointed back at me, a few steps behind them.
The assistant’s expression turned awkward, as if trying to make sense of why Becky was attached to Derick’s arm while I lingered in the background. Derick cleared his throat, sensing the awkwardness. He tried to gesture for me to join him, but I subtly stepped aside, evading his hand that hovered mid-air, uncertain.
“I’ll go look around,” I said, shrugging casually.
Derick looked a little caught off guard, like he was about to say something, but then Becky took his arm and led him to sit down on the couch.
I picked a dress quickly. Whatever the sales associate said was popular, I chose without a second thought.
As soon as I got into the fitting room, I could hear movement from the stall next to mine. I took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and unease. It was a little silly, really, to feel nervous over this moment after four years together. Derick and I had passed by this bridal shop so many times. He used to say that when he finally saw me in a wedding dress, he’d be so moved that he might cry.
But now, as I stepped out in a diamond-studded gown, he only gave me a quick glance, his expression unchanging. “So tacky,” he muttered. “You’re not a teenage anymore. Why would you pick something so gaudy?”
I didn’t bother arguing, already reaching for my phone to get a picture taken.
The curtain next to me opened, and Becky stepped out wearing an off-the-shoulder gown with a low-cut back. Her dress sparkled twice as much as mine.
And Derick—he was speechless, unable to tear his eyes away from her, his gaze growing almost misty. Becky, sensing his reaction, smirked and put on an act. “What’s the matter? Did I surprise you? Tell me, who looks better—me or your fiancée?”