"No, he'll be forced to marry someone that I choose." Karina replied tartly, "Someone who is actually suitable to becoming a Davis, someone with a pedigree, an education."
"Someone like Alissa." I shot back, hands resting on my hips. My fingernails dug into the flesh of my skin beneath the robe.
"That has been brought up." Karina said simply, turning her back to me as she slowly pulled the door open and took a single step towards the hall, "You know this is the best choice, for both of you. Leave, Macy. You will never be one of us. You will never be in his heart. You will never feel at home here. If you stay, you will be more unhappy than you could ever even imagine."
Without giving me a chance to respond, she slid out into the hall, her stilettos not making a single sound as she strode effortlessly towards the stairs.
I stared at the close door where my future mother in law had once stood.
Her words went through my mind, one by one, each syllable more true than the last.
She was right of course, and Karina Davis would know better than anyone what I was getting myself into.
Perhaps leaving was the best option. Perhaps I should run away from the wedding, never looking back.
My bakery was already safe. I could sleep easy, in that little cot in my back room. I wanted to believe I could keep it afloat without rent to worry about. I could stand outside with free samples, I could make it work.
Couldn't I?
And Sebastian would be fine. In fact, he may even be relieved if I were to just go. I would never fit in. I got along better with their chef than anyone else in that family. Alissa had effortlessly found her place among them, and yet somehow I still managed to be excluded.
I would be excluded forever.
And Sebastian and I’s relationship...Karina was probably right about him as well. She knew him best. Could he ever see me as a woman, as his wife?
Perhaps he could see no further than the buxom redhead that all but threw herself in his lap.
Before I could even finish processing my thoughts, another knock at my door made my palms damp.
Who was it now? Another person to tell me what a terrible choice for Sebastian I was and how I should leave?
"Macy?" A feminine voice asked, door creaking open as curious eyes peered in.
"Hello?" I asked, pulling the robe tighter around me.
A woman walked in, followed shortly by two others.
"Hello!" The first gushed, blond curls pinned back against the side of her head, "We're going to help you get ready. Have a seat."
She gestured towards a chair in front of the large set of windows, standing beside me. The two others inspected my nails and lay out boxes of makeup and clothes on the bed.
"So, what kind of hairstyle were you thinking?" The blond asked, running a brush through my hair.
From outside the window, I could see flowers being arranged carefully down a long, white walkway.
The wedding would be here, apparently, and it was only moments away.
A flowing white arch was set up, soft rays of the sun illuminating the fine wood it was constructed of. Heavy looking pews were being carried out, splashes of bright colored drapes along with them.
A distinctive crimson head darted between them, gesturing in different directions.
Alissa, controlling as ever, directed the show.
I wondered if Karina had spoken to her about convincing me not to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I wondered if Alissa believed I would follow through with all of this.
I couldn’t help but to wonder if Alissa was secretly hoping she was arranging this wedding for her to step in and save the day.
It wouldn't surprise me in the least.
"Macy?" The blond asked inquiringly, "About your hair?"
"Do whatever you like." I mumbled.
It wasn't like I really had a choice in any of this.
"What do you think, Gretchen?" The blond asked the girl painting my toes, "Half up?"
Gretchen stared at me, and I all but withered under her scrutiny, "Sounds good." She finally said with a firm nod.
As the girls poked and prodded me, it all spun into a blur of makeup and curls as the shape of my wedding took place far below us.
It was only when Gretchen gasped that I turned to look at her.
From within a long garment bag, she pulled a lacey, beaded gown from within, laying it carefully on the bed.
"Isn't that gorgeous." The blond whispered in my ear, pinning a veil on the back of my head, "What a lucky bride you are!"
Lucky.
Funnily enough, despite the dread in my belly, I supposed I was lucky.
I was lucky that Sebastian wandered into my bakery. I was lucky that he was rich, sexy, and intelligent.
I was lucky that I got to stand across from him at the aisle.
And yet, why did my heart feel so heavy?
As the dress was carefully slid over my head by the three girls, the buttons pressed and gown smoothed, they stepped back, admiring me.