Page 9 of Matrimonial Merger (Lakeshore Empire #2)

Daphne

We left brunch, taking the day away from court.

I was about to have a mental breakdown and decided to take a day off of work, too.

Delanie was only too happy to take the party to a posh place in Chelsea.

We passed a window of a beautiful bridal shop.

The renowned British designers had glorious dresses in the windows—happy dresses for brides who could be chic and wear whatever they wanted.

My heart first fluttered, then immediately sank.

Chloe, walking beside me, stopped. “That dress is beautiful.”

She looked at the same one I had an eye on—a sophisticated strapless ivory gown. It wasn’t overly bridal.

“It’s a wedding dress,” Lanie laughed. “You have plans, babe?”

“No, but Daphne does.”

Everyone stopped and stared at me.

“C’mon, Daph, I know you want to try it on,” Chloe said.

“Let’s do it,” Dora delighted, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the door.

“Dora Elizabeth! Do you think that is really appropriate? What if the paps see us out here?” I asked.

“Yes, total scandal!” Lanie rolled her eyes. “Woman who is about to get married tries on wedding dresses?—”

“While the man who dropped her sex tape is on trial,” I added, hands on my hips.

“Yes, whatever. Fuck him. Come on,” Chloe opened the door and stepped inside.

Mum surprised me with a shrug. “You could use a cheer-up, darling.”

By the time I made it inside, Chloe was in a full-on conversation with one of the consultants, pointing to the dress in the window, then me.

“It’s just beautiful. But let’s pull some others,” Chloe said.

“Are you the planner?” The consultant asked.

“Daphne is my sister-in-law—will be,” Chloe said.

“And can we get your name?” The older consultant behind the desk asked.

“Daphne Carlisle-Delphine,” Mum answered.

The older woman did a double-take, then turned back to the tablet in her hand, but then went back to pure professional customer service, “Are you looking for something more understated? Simple?”

“Chic,” I answered. “Sophisticated. I had a big ballgown for my first wedding. I want nothing like that this time. I want to focus on feeling beautiful and marrying the man I love. That’s all.”

She demanded, “Can you pull Geneva, Pippa? I would add Adelaide and Louisa into the mix, too.”

I assumed these were the names of the dresses they saw me fitting into.

As much as I wanted to be excited and happy, I just couldn’t be.

I knew that if a dress fit today, it wouldn’t fit in six months.

In the consult room, champagne emerged—something I couldn’t partake in.

I listened to my mother explain her own wedding dress to one of the consultants while Pippa zipped me into the strapless dress I’d dreamt up.

The crepe fabric wasn’t fussy like the intricate lace I’d worn to marry chandler.

It was sexy in a way I’d never get away with for a UK church wedding. I felt a little like a bridal badass.

As I stood on the pedestal in front of a bank of mirrors, I fought happy tears.

“It’s lovely on you,” Mum said. “But I don’t think any of these dresses will work, ladies. She hasn’t told you but… she is… well…”

Mum couldn’t bring herself to state the obvious. The desire for self-preservation in polite society overruled all else. Here—especially when w were back in the UK—she was Lady Danna first.

“She’s pregnant, Mum. You can say it,” Lanie insisted. “And happy about it. It was a happy thing.”

“A surprise, but yes,” I confirmed.

“Congratulations! When are you due?” Pippa asked cheerfully.

“August,” I answered.

“And they are getting married in June,” Mum said. “So this… it will not fit by then. We should find something… more suitable, I think.”

“That’s fine,” Pippa chirped, noting my sad expression. “We will find something we could alter appropriately.”

I was pulled out of the dress I’d fallen for and thrown into three beautiful dresses that they could make work—dresses I felt were anything but sexy, edgy, or sophisticated. They were traditional, stuffy, and princess-y. They weren’t me.

“That is gorgeous,” Mum gasped as I stood there in a beautiful white silk ballgown with an empire waist, long lace sleeves, and a high collar.

“It’s too much like her other dress. God, Mum!” Delanie protested.

She was right.

“No. It’s fussy. She doesn’t want fussy,” Dora spoke up. “I don’t love it.”

“I don’t, either,” I admitted.

“But it’s so classic , Daphne. You would look darling. And it would hide your stomach.”

I didn’t want to hide my stomach. Tears welled and I sputtered, “I don’t want that.

I never said I wanted to just lie and hide this.

I’m not ashamed to be pregnant. I know you might be, but…

I am not! I’m finally having a baby with a man I can trust. After years of heartache, I’ll finally be a mother.

I refuse to feel bad about that! And I don’t like it.

I don’t care if you do. The dress is lovely—for someone else.

And you had your chance to dress me ten years ago.

This is my wedding day. I will wear what I want. ”

Chloe handed me a tissue. I dabbed my eyes as my mother fell silent.

“Should we try the crepe on again?” Pippa asked, too cheerfully.

“Yes,” Chloe, Delanie, and Dora answered in unison.

So, I tried on the dream dress again. I loved the ruching, the way it hit all of my curves.

I felt like a woman. I felt strong. This was the dress, but I couldn’t help but cry, because it was pointless.

I couldn’t wear this dress. It would never fit by the time we finally said our vows.

So, once more, I gave up on a dream. My timing was always shit.

Cal

Chloe’s number appeared on my phone as I was finishing my third cup of coffee. Worried, someone had died, I answered the phone.

“Is everyone okay?” I asked.

“Yes. Jesus Christ! Everything is fine. Calm the fuck down, dude,” Chloe said.

I relaxed. “Sorry. You just never call unless someone has died.”

“Okay, fair. No, this is not a life emergency—well, it’s not a dangerous thing. It’s more… well, your future wife fell in love with a wedding dress today.”

“Okay… and the problem?” I asked, confused. “Is this a fight between Daphne and Danna, because I do not have the bandwidth?—”

“No. I mean, yes, Danna preferred another dress but Daphne laid into her—rightfully so. Nah. She found this dress, Cal, and it was perfect on her. She cried happy tears. It was the first smile I’ve seen on her face in ages.”

“So tell her to buy it,” I said. “I’m not sure?—”

“She won’t. It won’t fit her in June. She’s being a realist, brother. But everything that they could make fit in six months made her want to cry sad tears. Your girl wants to look hot not matronly and it’s… fucking sad.”

I rubbed my left temple. “So why are you calling me? I can’t fix that. It’s very sad, but I cannot fix it, Chloe.”

“I don’t know. But… I’m letting you know.”

I didn’t know what to do with that information.

“Look, if there was any way to change the wedding date… could you? Move it up? Weddings are about the bride and yours is sad , Cal. I want to see her be happy. She fucking deserves that. Sitting in that courtroom with her tells me just how much she went through. Is there any way you could do it?”

“Chloe, that’s… I’m not a miracle worker. Trust me.”

“Think about it. Try your mayoral magic.”

“Mayoral magic?” I laughed. “I cannot get alderman to agree on hotdogs or Italian beef for a luncheon. You flatter me, sister.”

“Get it done. I believe in you.”

And with no goodbye, she was gone.

I turned back to the day’s agenda and a speech at a sustainability event. I arrived and chatted with people but my mind was thousands of miles away across an ocean. Kristy pulled me aside, sensing something was up.

“Are you okay?” She laughed.

“Unsure,” I answered. “Honestly, I am worried about Daphne. This trial has been so hard on her. And my sister called me this morning. Anyhow, it’s silly and I should let it go, but I cannot.”

“What’s silly?”

“Daphne fell in love with a dress and Chloe said it’s the only genuine smile she’s seen in ages. I know what she means. Daphne has been so down. This trial is wearing on her.”

“It would wear on anyone. Reliving that all? No thank you.”

“Sure. But Chloe said she came out of it for a minute, only to turtle back inward. And that’s all I’ve seen. She beats down her feelings. The wedding meant a lot to both of us, but now it feels like she is just going through the motions to say she did it.”

“So don’t get married. Cal, you don’t have to?—”

“No. I’m not explaining this well. We both want this. She just would like to do it not seven months pregnant. And she’d like to do it in the dress of her choice. Chloe says she can’t buy it because it won’t fit her.”

“Then get married sooner,”Kristy said. “Does it even matter if you walk away married? This is why marriage is silly to me. It’s about the wedding?—”

I rolled my eyes, “Kristy, I know it doesn’t matter to you. It really doesn’t matter to me, but it matters to Daphne. Her mother steamrolled over everything she wanted and she was basically forced to marry a man who betrayed her to save face. She makes herself so small.”

“I remember,” Kristy admitted. “But I am serious. Get married sooner.”

“That is a logistical impossibility. You sound like Chloe! She thinks I have mayoral magic.”

Kristy laughed until she snorted. “That’s fucking great. Oh, I miss Chloe’s wit in my life. She’s right, though.”

“Getting a venue, a caterer, a DJ or a band, everything?”

“Didn’t you all just plan a huge engagement party at the Cultural Center? I got the invite by the way?—”

“Yes, I saw you on the RSVP yes list,” I said.

She furrowed her brow.

“What, I cannot look into who did and didn’t RSVP?”

“I am surprised that you care, but okay. Who are you?”

“I am taking care of wedding planning stuff for Daphne. I don’t want her focused on that right now with the trial.”

“That’s genuinely adorable. You’re going to make a really good husband.

Okay, well follow me here. The Cultural Center is a huge venue.

A beautiful venue. I am assuming you already have catering, a DJ, bartenders, and all the complicated bits.

It’s a heavy lift, but you should enlist your mother and you can get it done. ”

“That sounds like a nightmare,” I said. “She’s been?—”

“You need help. Everyone will be there. Just do the wedding and surprise your guests—and maybe the bride. If you truly want to take it off her shoulders, make it wonderful. She will be so relieved to just show up. I know I would be.”

“And if I fuck it all up?”

“Enlist her female family members. Call your planner. Round the troops up. It will work. Be happy. Love that woman. And get her that damn dress.”

It was a crazy idea, but I was left with only the wildest hairs to pursue.