Stealing the Heart of Mr. Steele

Heart 95



Chapter 95 [Cordelia]

I have no interest in trying on wedding dresses, but Angelica doesn't care. She pushes me into the room with enough force that I am sure she would lock it behind me if she could.

Even without the lock, I know I am trapped. If I do not leave this room donning an appropriate wedding gown, I will have to face the wrath of the bride.

Hesitantly I look through the rack of dresses. I don't know why I even bothered since it is clear that the shop owner has her own opinion about what a pregnant bride should wear, and the opinion is not kind.

Still, determined to make Angelica happy, I try on each dress. I'm sure they are out there wondering about me since I don't bother with stepping out of the room to show them off. Even the ones that look like promising options make me want to cry with how terrible I look once I put them on. The worst one was a dress made of stretch satin that had so much ruching around the midsection that the champagne- colored silk made it look like I was naked with large rolls of abdominal fat.

Whoever picked these for me did so with a malicious eye set to make me feel ugly instead of elegantly glowing with motherhood.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

If I wanted to get married right now, I'd change my mind after seeing myself in any of these gowns.

Finally, I find one that doesn't make me feel terrible. When I look at myself in the mirror, I think it might be the most beautiful dress I've ever wom, It is an empire-waisted ivory satin dress in a sweetheart cut along the neckline that is pleated in such a way as to make the dress look romantic and flattering. Over the silk is a layer of fine Ivory lace that covers my otherwise bare arms and neck.

I hold my breath. I couldn't imagine a better dress even if I were dreaming.

"Are you coming out?" Angelica knocks on the door. "We all want to see the dress."

Cautiously I open the door and walk out to the main viewing room.

Angelica and the others are waiting, standing in a row, watching the hallway for my appearance. When I am finally feeling brave enough to step into the light, Melanie, Meghan, and Summer all stand and clap.

"Oh Cordelia, you look so lovely," Melanie coos. "Go on, step onto the platform, and see for yourself!"

With a little bit of assistance, I step onto the raised platform. Surrounded by mirrors, I can see myself from all angles. The small rhinestones sewn onto the lace sparkle in the sunshine, creating a rainbow cascade of light that bounces off of the walls.

"It's missing something." Meghan insists as she crosses the store, grabs a veiled tiara, and places it on my head. It is trimmed with the same lace as the dress, "There! Now you look like a princess bride."

Angelica is the only one who doesn't say anything but I can see the wheels turning in her mind.

"We will buy this one as well," she announces to the shopkeeper before turning to the others and suggesting that the rest of them retire to the lounge in the adjacent room while I get ready for lunch.

The shopkeeper comes to help me out of the dress but may never have a chance to see myself like this again. this place as a pleasant memory.

ask her for a few more minutes. Who knows, I want to take the way I look right now away from

Alone in my thoughts, I marvel at this dress and how wonderful it makes me feel. From the silky soft drape of the fabric to the way it moves, everything about it is exquisite. Twirling in front of the triple mirrors, I imagine the wedding I'll never have. It would be in a small chapel made of dark wood with tall stained-glass windows. The isles would be trimmed with large white roses bound in thin trailing ribbons in shades of green and teal.

And waiting at the end of the aisle is the man I will spend the rest of my life with.

Only I don't see Clark at the end of the aisle waiting for me.

I see Atlas.

And unlike our real wedding, he is coon and happy to see me. I am the bride he chooses, not the one he

is stuck with.

s our vi

Vows.

Closing my eyes, I can almost hear his smooth, deeply masculine voice as he says.

"You look stunning."

Only a hand on my shoulder tells me he isn't a vision.

Turning, I melt into his steel-blue eyes.

VictoryAnne Vice Author

Oh, Atlas. What are you going to do?

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