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I felt slightly better for having at least gotten something out, and I knew it would not be the last time I wrote to my friend. That way I never really had to let him go.

I held the box tightly to my chest as I curled up into myself on the grass.

I didn’t know how long I lay out there for, but I must have eventually fallen asleep.

I woke up briefly when Dash carried me into the house, but fell back asleep before he put me into my bed. It might not have been healthy, but I stayed in bed for the rest of the day, crying my heart out.

Dash stayed with me the whole entire time.

23

Ihad made my mind up and finally came to a decision. I couldn’t wear the dress.

No, that wasn’t right. It wasn’t that I couldn’t wear the dress, but that I wouldn’t wear it. It was incredibly beautiful, and I appreciated Rain giving it to me. It was something I would cherish for the rest of my days, but it felt wrong to wear it myself.

I knew Rain well enough to know he wouldn’t be mad at me. Otherwise, I probably would have worn the damn thing just to make him happy even if it would have made me miserable to do so. Sadly, I didn’t think there’d ever come a time when I wasn’t that little girl on the inside trying to impress my dad and make him proud of me.

Unfortunately for me, that left me without a dress and with no idea what to do with my mother’s. I did know that I didn’t want to stuff it back into its box and cover it up in tissue paper, never to look at it ever again.

That wasn’t going to work for me.

Neither was not having a dress. Thankfully I had a boyfriend who could sort out all this shit for me and he was always more than happy to take the wheel for me.

Damien to the rescue. Again. I was lucky that man loved me, otherwise I’d probably end up getting a bill in the mail for his time and expertise.

He’d shown up not fifteen minutes ago with some type of store mannequin, along with several garment bags. I loved him for it, because he’d taken some heat from Quinton for leaving in the first place and told him to mind his own damn business when Uncle Quinton demanded to know where he was going and why.

Old habits were hard to break for that man.

I always found my boyfriends even more attractive when they told Quinton to stick it where the sun didn’t shine and then went and did their own damn thing.

I sat back, not even bothering to help, as I watched Damien manhandle the mannequin and get the dress onto it. The thing had no head but was surprisingly not creepy at all. He got the dress on and in place, and set the whole thing up in a well-lit corner of the room.

I… liked it.

It would be on display for me to see every time I came in here. It wouldn’t be shoved in my face at all times, and it wouldn’t be on display for everyone to gawk at all the time. It was tucked away in my closet, and it wasn’t like I was throwing raging parties in here and inviting the whole crew to come hang out.

“Thank you,” I murmured in a hushed voice. I didn’t think I was capable of speaking any louder at the moment because my emotions were threatening to choke me to death.

That shit was turning into my new normal.

Fuck, my eyes stung with unshed tears I absolutely refused to let fall. I was not going to cry over this dead woman anymore. I knew that sounded callous and horrible, but I needed to give my energy to the people who were in my life now and no longer focus on the dead people in it.

Like my mother.

And Vivian.

And even Marcus of all people.

I needed to let that shit go and move on with my life. It was time and all a part of growing up and becoming the adult I now claimed to be.

Damien gave me a soft, loving look as he brushed his hair off his forehead with the back of his hand. It was well past time for him to get a haircut, and I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so disheveled before. He usually prided himself on being very well put together.

This was my fault.

My bullshit with the Council and then Quinton forced him to stay at the big house and had sort of derailed his life for a while now. I had the sudden urge to apologize to him, but I knew that wouldn’t go over well.

“It’s a beautiful dress, but you’re right, it’s most definitely not you. I couldn’t even imagine you wearing this Barbie beast dress for anything. I saw that picture of your mother hanging on the wall in your bedroom, and she was absolutely gorgeous, very much like you. This dress was clearly all her though, and it looks like it was made specifically for her. You need your own dress, something that was made just for you, something to call your very own. And I’ve got just the thing. I’m going to blow your mind. Prepare to be amazed.”