Page 34 of I Wish I Would’ve Warned You (Forbidden Wishes #3)
EMILY
T he doors of the White Magnolia Bridal Shop are pink with frosted glass. Their company slogan, “First Comes Love, Then Comes Your Dress,” is etched in tiny cursive that makes the word “dress” look like “mess.”
Any other time, I’d laugh about that, but I haven’t eaten in four days, and I haven’t been able to sleep.
All week, silk-wrapped boxes and designer wardrobes have arrived at the estate for my mother, all bearing well wishes for the marriage. I’ve tried to tune out as much of the planning as possible, but remnants of the inevitable find me.
I’d even feigned a headache for today’s dress appointment, but Mr. Dawson’s butler put together a box of frozen juices and medicine. So here I am—trapped in pink walls and perfume, flinching at the faint sound of champagne flutes clinking behind closed doors.
Everything here smells like roses and dreams. None of it smells like reality.
“Why are you being so quiet out there, Emily?” my mom calls from the other side of the door. “Talk to me while I’m finagling this lace!”
I swallow.
I honestly have nothing to say.
“She shared her vows when you arrived,” one attendant whispers and points to the envelope in my lap. “She probably wants to know what you think.”
“Good idea.” I tear the flap and pull out the handwritten sheet.
My Dear Sweet Aidan,
I knew you were the one when we stayed up ‘til sunrise for our first phone call. Every day has been a dream, and I’ve never felt this happy. I wish I’d met you sooner, and I promise never to let you go.
I love you forever and always, and I’ll never let you go.
I flip the sheet over, looking for the rest, but it’s blank.
“I just read your vows,” I call out to her. “Um, they’re pretty short and to the point.”
“Exactly!” She steps out in an off-shoulder gown that takes my breath away.
“This is going to be a tough one to beat.” Her voice cracks. “What do you think, Emily?”
“I…” I stand up and move closer. “You look beautiful.”
She arches a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying,” she says, narrowing her eyes. “Can you ladies excuse me and my daughter for a moment, please?”
The attendants oblige, and she steps down. Then she places her hands on my shoulders.
“You’ve been distant with me lately.” She pauses. “You think I’m moving too fast, don’t you? It’s too soon to try on dresses to you?”
“You try on wedding dresses every time we move to a new town.”
“Well, yeah, but that’s to de-stress.” She smooths the veil, smiling. “What’s wrong with the vows?”
“Nothing, they’re just bare.”
“Well, they’re just a draft. I’m going to add more about the way he makes me feel, like…” She stares into the distance as if she’s waiting for the words to meet her halfway.
“It’s like suddenly you’re the only two people on the planet?” I ask. “Like, the world could end right then and there, and you’d be fine dying in his arms.”
“Well, I would never want to die, Emily.” She shoots me a look. “That’s quite macabre of you.”
“I just mean that when you’re with him, it feels like no one else will ever matter, and that no one else you were with before ever compared. You were meant to find him, and he was meant to find you.”
“Yes.” Her lips curve into a smile. “That.”
“Have you ever gotten bad vibes from him?” Her eyes beg me to keep quiet about anything that might ruin this. “Did he say something that makes you think I should reconsider?”
“I was simply asking a question,” I say. “Just making sure this is true love.”
“Oh. Well, it is!” She smiles. “You know, whenever you think you’ve found the love of your life, I’ll be there every step of the way. Speaking of which, tell me about that guy you met.”
“It’s not going to work out,” I say. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Already? How do you know?”
I just know… “Let me see the next dress.”
“Gladly!”
She turns, floating back into the dressing room without a care in the world.
Without any regard for how her life decisions continue to affect me…
I sit down slowly, fingers clenched in my lap, and stare at the discarded envelope like it might offer a way out. I don’t know how to breathe in this room. Not when I can already see what’s coming.
Because she’s choosing him .
And if I choose Cole, I know I’ll lose her.
A relationship with him wouldn’t just strain what we have—it would obliterate it. It would stain everything this wedding is pretending to be.
She’s building her whole future on him, stitching it into lace and satin, pinning it with gold-plated hair combs. And I’m the one standing here with scissors.
There is no version of this story where I get to keep them both.