Chapter 3

After three days resting at home, I went back to work.

Once the morning meeting wrapped up, my boss called me into his office. Headquarters had opened up a three-year overseas exchange posting, he said. Go for three years, and I'd come back straight into leadership.

He wanted to know if I was interested. My track record put me among the best in the company, after all.

The old me would have turned it down without a second thought.

After all, Tim and I were about to get engaged.

But now, looking at that application form, I hesitated.

"Let me think it over. I'll give you an answer within two days."

When I came out of the office, I saw the message Sophie had sent half an hour earlier.

【Adela, the bridal shop called. Your custom gown is ready. Do you want to go try it on?】

It was right around noon, so I took a cab over to the bridal salon.

I'd just gotten there when another message came in.

【I forgot, you're at work and your leg's still bad. I'll just try it on for you.】

By the time I finished reading it, I looked up and saw her stepping out of the fitting room in the gown.

At one end of the sofa, a man in black leather shoes stood up.

Tim, in a suit, stood beside her, reaching out to smooth her train.

The man I'd once begged for just ten minutes to get measured, who always refused because he was too busy with work, was here after all.

He'd told me before that the bridal shop was too far, that from now on I should handle these things myself and he'd just pay for it.

So it turned out he had the time all along.

The two of them, so perfectly matched, pricked at my chest like a needle.

That gown Sophie was wearing was one I'd started designing last year, working out every detail little by little. To keep myself in the best shape for it, I'd held to the exact measurements I'd given back then.

Yet on her small frame, the gown looked even more right than it had in the pictures.

I stood where I was and called the bridal shop.

The woman on the other end stammered.

"It's like this, Miss Swanson. Over half a month ago, your fiancé—"

Before she could finish, Tim's voice came through the phone.

"I'm the one who called and had them alter it. Her aunt said her mother's memorial day is coming up, so I thought I'd let her wear a wedding gown once, so her mother could see her in it that day."

Something inside gave a lurch, as if it had cracked.

The first time my gown was worn, it wasn't by me. It was by my cousin.

And not for a wedding, but to be worn to a cemetery.

My mother, who wanted me to be happy, knew. Tim, who'd promised to try to be a good boyfriend, knew.

I was the only one kept in the dark.

The phone felt as heavy as lead, and my hand sank down under the weight of it.

"I understand. You're busy. I won't come in."

Maybe our voices overlapped, because Tim turned and saw me standing in the doorway.

His mouth opened. He was about to say something.

Sophie came running out in the gown.

"Adela, you're here—why didn't you come in? Are you angry? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put on your gown without asking. I'll take it off right now so you can try it."

I shook my head, meaning to say it was nothing.

But her eyes went red.

"If you think it's dirty now, I'll take it to be dry-cleaned right away, and I promise I'll never touch it again! Please don't be angry with me, okay?"

At that, Tim frowned and pulled her behind him, shielding her.

"She was only trying it on. It's not like she's actually taking it from you. Why give her that look? I arranged this with your aunt. It has nothing to do with her."

"She has no father, no mother, and she still has to live watching your mood. Is this any way to treat her, as her older cousin? How do you face your aunt like this?"

My chest clenched all at once.

I hadn't said a single thing. I was the one who'd been managed and ignored.

Sophie was sobbing so hard she couldn't catch her breath, tears streaming, choking on them, barely able to stand.

The sleeves and neckline of the gown were smeared with tears and sweat and makeup, in great streaks of black and red.

Tim turned back and steadied her, aching for her.

"All right, all right. Cry any more and you'll dehydrate."

He turned her around to leave, and Sophie stepped on the train and nearly fell.

So he tore off the trailing veil I loved most, ripping it away as cleanly and forcefully as pulling off a strip of gauze.

He glanced back at me.

"This part's too much trouble. Let's just switch to something simpler."

I tipped my head back to force the tears down, and quietly turned away.

Back at the company, I signed my name at the bottom of the application form.