Chapter 3

In the afternoon, the doorbell rang.

It was Isla.

She was wearing one of Ethan's oversized white button-down shirts.

"Chloe,"

"Ethan said you must be exhausted from planning the wedding. He asked me to bring over some homemade mushroom risotto."

She strolled into the living room, looking around before making herself at home on the couch.

"Ethan has been helping me move these past few days. He barely slept. He has dark circles under his eyes, and it breaks my heart."

She opened the thermal container. The strong smell of mushrooms filled the room.

"I told him to put extra mushrooms. He said they're your favorite."

I despised mushrooms. That was Ethan's favorite, not mine.

"Thanks. Just leave it there."

Isla stood up and headed straight for my bedroom.

"Chloe, can I see your wedding dress?"

Before I could answer, she pushed the door open.

My custom-made satin gown was hanging on the wardrobe, its delicate lace shimmering in the light.

"Wow, it's gorgeous. Ethan has amazing taste."

"I chose it myself."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. I'm just so jealous."

She lowered her head, looking pitiful.

"If only I weren't sick... If only I had met him sooner..."

"Chloe, can I try it on? With my health, I probably won't ever get the chance to wear one in this lifetime."

The front door lock clicked. Ethan was back.

"What's going on?"

He walked into the bedroom.

In an instant, Isla looked like a kicked puppy.

"Ethan, I just wanted to try on the dress for a second. But Chloe seems upset. I shouldn't have asked."

Ethan looked at the dress and frowned.

"Chloe, Isla is sick. Why can't you just let her have this one little wish?"

He wrapped an arm around Isla's shoulders. "It's just a piece of fabric. It won't get ruined if she tries it on."

Watching them stand together, I said quietly, "That is my wedding dress."

"I know it's yours. You're wearing it next week anyway. Would it kill you to let her wear it for one minute?"

He impatiently snatched the dress off the hanger. "Go ahead and try it on. I'll take some pictures for you."

Isla looked at me timidly. "Don't be mad, Chloe. If I get it dirty, I'll pay for it."

She took the dress into the guest room.

Ethan looked at me. "Chloe, grow up. Stop being so petty."

He tried to grab my hand, but I stepped back.

"Ethan, do I always have to yield just because you ask me to?"

He frowned. "Be generous. Why are you competing with a sick girl?"

The guest room door opened. Isla twirled around, holding up the heavy train. "How do I look?"

*Riiiiip.*

The delicate lace caught on a loose nail on the doorframe, tearing open a massive hole.

Isla gasped, covering her mouth. "Oh my god, Chloe! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to!"

Ethan immediately blocked her from me.

"It's fine. It's just a dress."

He looked at me defensively. "Chloe, we can buy another one tomorrow. Don't you dare yell at her."

A wave of sheer absurdity washed over me.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. I simply walked over, snatched the torn gown from Isla, and stuffed it directly into the trash can.

I dusted off my hands.

"No need to buy a new one. I won't be needing it anyway."