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NOVA

“That dress is beautiful,” Darla said, unable to hide her wonderment. Her light amber eyes were glowing as she watched me turn slowly in place in the wedding gown. The top hugged me like a corset, strapless and tight. Ribbons even whiter than the gown itself crisscrossed my spine. The bodice vanished into the full layers of lace and tulle.

“Thanks,” I said, blushing, smiling too wide. “I just hope Thorne likes it as much as you do.” I sat carefully in front of the vanity, studying how my veil fit over my hair.

“I don’t know why you care what he thinks,” Darla said. “It’s not like it matters.”

“It does matter,” I argued.

Her eyebrows moved up and down, her lips quirking. “Oh my. Is our frigid Nova inlove?”

My fingers busied themselves adjusting my earrings. “No,” I said, the word catching in my throat. “I’m not in love with him.” It wasn’t a full truth. It was the kind that, if cut into pieces, could still be identified as what it was from a single slice.

“Remember why you’re doing this,” my mother said, standing behind me. Her hands rested on my shoulders; her nails were bright red on my snowy-white lace.

I said nothing. Just stared into the mirror.

“Please,” Darla snorted. “Knowing Little Miss Never Been Kissed here, you can expect that baby in a decade.”

Neither of them had any idea what I’d been up to with Thorne. How we’d already done much more than kiss. That man had cracked me open, burying his fingers in my liquid core, and I’d healed back over with him sealed inside.

I might not love him—yet.

But he was a part of me now.

Darla smoothed her palms down the front of her lilac maid of honor dress. “This is why you should have let me marry him, Mom.”

“He pickedme, not you. Let it go.” The acidic words exploded.

Darla gaped at me in the mirror. My backbone was new to her.

Our mom backed away. “Yes,” she said solemnly. “He picked you, Nova.” Turning, she motioned at Darla to leave the room. “Go. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Though I twisted my veil, pretending to be busy with it, I watched my mother approach me. I wished she’d left with my sister. The way my mother made me feel ... it wasn’t afraid. Not quite. There was a fraction of my existence that tugged sharply when she came close, a craven, awful eagerness to please her however I could.

“Nova.” She breathed my name out, letting it linger. When she stood behind me, she was so tall the mirror cut her off at her chest. In the smooth reflection she was nothing but manicured hands and a disembodied torso wearing the finest silk. “I know you don’t get along with your sister. But please don’t fight with her. We’re all in this together.”

I looked down at the smear of makeup left over on the vanity. The girls who’d done my hair and painted my skin had left only half an hour ago. I wished I’d left when they had.

“Nova.”

“I know,” I said, still not lifting my head. “I’ll try not to fight with her. I just don’t like how she talks about me and Thorne.”

Her grip tightened. “Is she right? Do you love him?”

Glancing at the mirror, I focused on the stitching on her dress. “Is it bad if I do? Isn’t falling in love normal?”

She grabbed the chair, turning it, making the legs scrape over the floor. I had no choice but to face her now. “Loving him might make things more difficult.”

My lower lip pulled between my teeth. I started to bite, but she tapped my arm, reminding me not to ruin my lipstick. “How could love do that?”

“Because no matter what, he can never do what I have for you. He can never make the sacrifice I have.” My mother trapped my chin with her fingers, and something in me twinged. “Nova ... I’m your mother. The way I love you, and the wayyouloveme, always comes first. I’m saying this only because I care. I worry that if you do come to love this man, that you’ll be confused over who you owe your allegiance to.”

Unable to break her intense eye-lock, I gave a quick nod. “I’ll never forget what you’ve done for me, Mom. I promise.”

Kissing her fingers and pressing them to the bridge of my nose, she released me. “Good. Now let’s hurry.”

Standing up, I adjusted my gown. I could fix the way the tulle hung, but I couldn’t remove the wrinkles of worry in my heart. Eyeing her, I said, “Is there something you’re worried about? Something with Thorne or his family?”