There’s something oddly intimate about choosing an outfit for your ex-almost-lover’s wedding.
It’s not like I was planning to seduce anyone. This wasn’t a rom-com where I’d burst through the chapel doors and object at the altar. No—this was real life. Messy. Uneven. Unforgiving.
But still… I wanted to look okay. Not breathtaking. Not dramatic. Just okay. Like I had moved on. Like my heart hadn’t been fraying at the edges since I opened that invitation.
“Too much cleavage,” Ishang muttered as I stepped out of the dressing room.
I glanced down. “I mean, it’s not like I’m dressing for him.”
“You’re not dressing for him, you’re dressing for you.” She crossed her arms, examining me like a fashion judge on reality TV. “And the version of you who’s thriving would not wear that. Try again.”
I groaned and disappeared behind the curtain again. I had already tried five dresses. Too formal. Too plain. Too soft. Too… not me.
The truth was—I didn’t know who I was anymore. Not around him.
Back in college, I was the confident, headstrong version of myself. The girl who climbed mountains, both literally and metaphorically. I had dreams. I had plans. I had Lark, waiting patiently on the sidelines.
Now, I was just someone trying to survive a wedding with her dignity intact.
“Okay,” I called out as I stepped out again, this time in a dark green satin dress. It hugged my waist, flared at the hem, and draped across my shoulders like armor. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t trying too hard. It was honest. It was peaceful.
Ishang stared for a moment, then gave a single nod. “That’s the one.”
“You sure?” I turned to look in the mirror.
I didn’t recognize the woman staring back. Not entirely. She looked… composed. Like she could sit through this wedding and not fall apart.
“That color suits you,” Ishang added. “It’s calm. But it doesn’t fade.”
I blinked fast. “I just need to survive a few hours.”
“You need to stop pretending this is a battlefield,” she said softly, stepping beside me. “You’re not going to war. You’re going to a celebration. Even if it’s not yours.”
Her words landed like a gentle slap.
She was right. Again.
Lark had moved on. He was building something with someone else something beautiful and lasting. And I was still here, treating this wedding like a final exam I hadn’t studied for.
Maybe it was time to shift the perspective.
Maybe this wasn’t the ending.
Maybe it was the beginning.
Of what? I wasn’t sure yet.
But as I looked at myself in the mirror, in that dark green satin dress, I realized something important.
I didn’t want to win him back.
I just wanted to stop losing myself every time I thought about what we could’ve been.
I turned to Ishang, finally smiling. “Okay. Let’s buy the damn dress.”
She grinned. “Now you’re speaking my language.”
We both laugh.
^^^End of chapter 2^^^
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