Page 11 of A Touch of Fate

One year later

I hadn’t really dared to dream about this day, but I could finally pick out my wedding dress today.

Mom had already cried twice before we even set foot in the bridal store in the afternoon.

Anna and Sofia joined us, as did Giorgia.

She was the only one from my old group of friends I still met with.

Most of the others had become estranged in the months after the accident.

I had known many of them from ballet, and since I didn’t dance anymore… I didn’t want to dwell on it.

While I wasn’t as close to Anna and Sofia as Giorgia, I was still happy for their presence. If I’d had to go alone with Mom, this day would have quickly become strenuous.

When Mom and I entered the store, the sales associate gave me an encouraging smile, which had quite the opposite effect. Did she think it would be difficult to find something for me?

Luckily, Sofia and Anna were already there, perched on a plush white sofa and having champagne. Anna got up first, dressed in a plaid miniskirt and over-the-knee boots, and came over to hug me. “I’m so excited for you.”

I grinned, then motioned at her glass. “They ditched the drinking age for you?”

Anna gave me a coy smile, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief as she tossed her sleek brown hair over her shoulder.

“I’m resourceful.” She turned to the small side table and filled two more glasses with champagne while Sofia hugged me.

I almost asked her how things were going with her wedding planning, but I had a feeling that wasn’t the best topic right now.

Things between her and Danilo seemed to be tense for whatever reason.

Anna handed me a champagne flute. “Here. Have a sip.”

Mom’s eyes widened in alarm when she stepped in, followed by the sales associate. I wasn’t sure what they’d had to discuss behind closed doors. Mom had probably preselected wedding gowns for me to try on. If I let her, she’d tell me what to wear down to my underwear.

Anna strode toward Mom and handed her the remaining flute with a conspiratorial smile. “We must celebrate today, don’t you think, Mrs. Mancini?”

Mom was immediately lost to Anna’s charming ways.

Sofia rolled her eyes to the heavens and exchanged a look with Anna before we all clinked glasses.

I took a sip from the bubbly liquid and felt a buzz spread through my body.

I had been allowed to drink alcohol only twice before, so my body reacted immediately.

But I was glad for the pleasant warmth and the way it soothed my nerves.

“Your friend Giorgia’s still missing, right?” Anna asked as she plopped back down on the sofa and threw one elegant leg over the other. I felt a brief pang but immediately shoved the notion aside.

“That girl has her priorities wrong,” Mom clipped. “She’s probably still having breakfast.”

Heat traveled up my throat on Giorgia’s behalf.

I was about to say something when Giorgia stumbled in a couple of minutes later, looking flushed and her long red hair all over the place. Her older brother gave me a brief nod before he disappeared without a word. She gave me a big grin and hugged me.

“She could be such a pretty girl if she just lost all that extra weight,” Mom whispered.

I gave her a warning look. “Mom.” I hated when people said I would be pretty if I wasn’t in a wheelchair, and Mom did exactly the same with Giorgia now.

Giorgia was curvy, definitely more curvy than was deemed acceptable in our world.

Women were supposed to have a model figure, and I didn’t mean plus-sized models who slowly conquered the runways.

Our world still only regarded skinny women as beautiful.

The judgmental nature of our world often made me resent it, but it was the world I knew, and I couldn’t imagine leaving it.

Giorgia scanned the display of dresses before she sank down beside me in an armchair. “You’ll look gorgeous in all of these dresses. They are stunning.”

“We can come here when you marry.”

Giorgia gave me an amused look. “I don’t think that’ll be happening any time soon, and they don’t have dresses above size six here.”

“Oh,” I said. “We’ll find something.”

“Today’s your day, Emma. Pick the dress of your dreams.”

“Maybe something that’ll distract people from her wheelchair,” Mom said with a fretful expression.

Giorgia widened her eyes comically. I just shrugged. Mom didn’t mean to hurt me. She wanted me to experience things “like normal people do” as she once said to me. I didn’t have the courage to tell her that I’d feel normal if she didn’t treat me like I was not.

Luckily, the sales associate paid more attention to me than Mom’s constant comments.

I was nervous when I wheeled into the changing room to try on the first few dresses. “Do you need help?” the sales associate asked.

“I’ll help her,” Giorgia quickly said before Mom could do so. She stepped into the changing room with me and closed the curtain.

I gave her a grateful smile.

It took a while for us to close the delicate buttons in the back, and eventually, the sales associate helped as well, but when I turned to the mirror and saw myself, tears stung my eyes.

The sales associate explained how we could still shorten the skirt and customize everything to my desires, but I could only nod and stare.

For some reason, I’d worried I wouldn’t feel pretty in a wedding dress.

I realized it was a silly concern now. But weddings in our world were bound by so many traditions that seemed to leave even less room for a girl like me.

Giorgia gave me a thumbs-up, beaming all over her face.

I allowed my fingers to stroke the fine material of the skirt.

It was sheer but with a fine sheen and in a beautiful eggshell color.

The sales associate had discouraged me from wearing a sweeping underskirt because it would push up when I was seated in the wheelchair, and now, in a more flowy skirt, I had to agree with her.

It looked elegant instead of like I’d tried to squeeze myself into a seat.

“The embroidery is so beautiful. You look amazing,” Giorgia said softly, her eyes actually glistening.

She wasn’t a crier, so I could feel my own eyes water at the sight of her show of emotion.

I touched the fine lace edging, which accentuated the low sweetheart neckline.

I’d never put this much focus on my décolletage, but I had to admit it had a nice effect.

Taking a deep breath, I wheeled out of the changing room.

Anna set down her champagne glass, her mouth parting in an O.

Sofia’s expression brightened too. Of course, Mom being Mom, only gave a nod, then narrowed her eyes thoughtfully and began to circle me, looking for ways to let the wheelchair disappear.

“It’s beautiful, it is,” she said slowly. “But I wonder if a more sweeping dress would be better…”

“It’s perfect!” Anna said as if she hadn’t heard my mother. She got up and nodded appreciatively as she motioned to my waist. “The corset perfectly accentuates your narrow waist and décolletage. If you’re up for it, I’d say you should wear really high heels.”

I shrugged. “Why not? It’s not like I’ll have to walk in them.”

Sofia and Anna looked uncertain if they should laugh, but Giorgia, knowing me better, burst out laughing.

Mom’s mouth pinched, but she took a few steps back, letting me spend time with the girls.

She approached the sales associate. Despite what everyone else thought, I knew she’d ask for a sweeping dress.

Anna moved toward the shelves with pumps and picked a few elegant, pointy heels.

She held up a pair of gorgeous Mary Jane pumps dressed in pearls and crystals.

Seeing that they were Jimmy Choos, I knew the price would match the extraordinarily slim heels and be outrageously high. Anna knelt before me. “May I?”

I nodded, a bit surprised as she put on the heels. I usually never wore heels. It had never made sense, but now, looking at myself in the mirror with these beautiful shoes, I regretted all the missed opportunities.

“Perfect!” Anna said.

“Yes,” I agreed, promising myself to wear heels more often in the future.

Mom urged me to try on three more dresses, but I couldn’t shake the image of the first dress I’d tried on, especially with the heels. I felt beautiful, so I picked my first choice despite Mom’s attempts to steer me toward another dress.

I wouldn’t try to cover up my wheelchair. I wanted to look beautiful in my wheelchair, and if people couldn’t see me like that because of a piece of metal, then that was their problem.

Still, I couldn’t deny that I wanted Samuel to find me beautiful.

Two months before the wedding, Samuel came to Indianapolis and visited me at our home.

I still lived with Danilo even though that was supposed to be a temporary thing.

Mom hadn’t coped very well after Dad’s death, and taking care of me—which she insisted on doing to an extent I definitely didn’t require—took too much of a toll on her.

Danilo hadn’t minded letting me live with him, and I’d preferred it too.

He worked a lot and didn’t hover like Mom did.

“What does he want?” I asked Danilo, who’d announced Samuel’s visit to me just an hour before it was supposed to happen.

So typical. I had been busy crafting the origami flowers I wanted to use as place cards for our wedding tables.

I was almost done with them but would have to start crafting the white cranes I wanted to use as decoration hanging from the ceilings over each table.

Danilo’s brows puckered. “I assume he wants to discuss last-minute details of the wedding.”