Page 144 of Nine Months to Love

42

OLIVIA

I stand in front of a three-way mirror, squinting at my reflection. The dress is perfect. Soft and romantic, with layers of silk chiffon that float around my legs like clouds. No corset, no boning, nothing constricting. It’s just gentle draping that skims over my body and the small bump of my belly.

“Oh my God,” Camille breathes from the velvet settee behind me. “Liv, that’s the one.”

I turn, watching the fabric swirl. “You think?”

“I don’tthink; Iknow. That dress was made for you.”

The boutique owner, Signora Bellini, clasps her hands together. “Bellissima. You are like an angel.”

I can’t stop staring at myself. I’ve tried on eight dresses already. Some were too formal, with excessive lace and beading that made me feel like a wedding cake. Others were too simple, basically glorified slips. But this one is different.

This one makes me feel like a bride.

“It’s really comfortable,” I say, running my hands over the silk. “I can actually breathe.”

“That’s because it’s not trying to suffocate you into submission,” Camille points out. “Unlike dress number four. That thing was a torture device. I thought you were going to pass out.”

Signora Bellini brings over a champagne flute filled with sparkling water and a small plate of marzipan fruits. “Please, sit. Rest. You have been standing for so long.”

I sink onto the settee next to Camille and take a sip. The water is perfectly chilled, with a hint of lemon. On the low table in front of us is an array of handmade chocolates that we’ve been steadily demolishing for the past hour.

“This is the fanciest dress shopping I’ve ever done,” Camille says, popping a chocolate into her mouth. “Stefan really went all out.”

“He reserved the entire boutique for the day.”

“Of course he did. Because why have other customers when you can just buy out the whole place?”

I laugh. “It’s excessive.”

“It’s romantic.”

“It’s both.”

Camille leans back, studying me. “You’re glowing, you know that?”

“I’m sweaty from trying on a million dresses.”

“No, I mean you’re actually glowing. Like, pregnancy glow. Happiness glow. In-love glow.”

Heat rises to my cheeks. “Stop.”

“I’m serious. I’ve never seen you like this. You’re happy. Actually, genuinely, no-reservations happy.”

I look down at my hands. The engagement ring reflects the light, throwing tiny rainbows across the wall. “I am happy,” I admit quietly. “Really happy. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Of losing myself in all this. Stefan is just... larger than life. He takes up all the air in the room. I’m not sure I can keep up with him.”

Camille nearly chokes on her chocolate. “Are you kidding? You are Olivia freaking Aster. You started your own fertility company and it was so damn great that your mentor stole your ideas, your innovations, and your client list. If that doesn’t scream success, I don’t know what does.”

“That’s a weird way to frame it.”

“It’s the truth. Rebecca Walsh saw what you built and wanted it for herself. That’s the ultimate compliment, even if it came wrapped in betrayal.”