The little decorative plastic beads along the neckline were half falling off, and the cuffs and hem were worn down to loose, frayed threads.
The one Natalie was wearing was the gown Duane had commissioned a full year in advance, custom-made by a specialist for more than a hundred grand.
When the finished piece arrived, Duane had said he'd keep it safe for me and hand it over on the wedding day, when the procession came to fetch the bride.
I never imagined "keeping it safe" meant putting it on someone else.
Duane carefully settled her into the car. When he caught the look on my face, he came over and pinched my cheek, smiling.
"My sweetheart looks gorgeous today. Why so quiet? Are you really upset?"
"I promise, the second I drop Nat off, I'll come straight back and do the ceremony with you. All right?"
I lifted my eyes and asked, "Didn't you say the nanny accidentally spilled soy milk on the custom gown this morning?"
Duane went quiet for a few seconds.
"Nat thought it suited her makeup better. I figured it's just a dress, you get married in whatever, it's all the same. I didn't think you'd nitpick over something so small."
So in his eyes, giving away the gown I was supposed to wear at my own wedding,
and leaving me to wear a defective one, was something small.
"Fine, then let's talk about something big."
"Duane, it's not like you don't know the local custom. On the wedding day, the groom has to carry the bride into the marriage home himself."
"Say it again. How long do you want me to wait?"
Duane thought it over. "There and back, no stops in between. About four hours."
I actually laughed, furious.
"The wedding's in three hours, and before that we still have the ceremony and the whole procession to get through. Which part exactly do you think you'll make it back for?"
Duane's expression stiffened, as if he didn't know how to answer.
His groomsmen and friends crowded in to smooth things over.
"His wife's being too hard on him, come on. Duane doesn't have a choice here. They say exes can stay friends, and Nat is his first love after all. The groom on the other side can't come over, so he can't just leave her hanging, can he? That'd be heartless."
"Duane brags about how kind and understanding you are all the time. You can't be this difficult and put him in a corner."
"Right, good things take time. Wait a little longer and maybe your marriage will be blessed with even more luck."
But being kind and understanding was never a reason to let people push their luck.
I shot back, my voice edged with scorn.
"Is that so? If the luck's so great, why don't you have Nat do the waiting?"
They fell silent at once, staring awkwardly at the sky.
I looked at Duane. "I'll ask you only once. Do you absolutely have to go?"
He hesitated for half a second, then nodded and tried to coax me.
"Worst case, we push the ceremony and the wedding to the afternoon. Lori, you've waited five years. What's another four hours..."
I cut him off. "Forget it. Go keep Nat company."
Duane thought I'd caved. Relieved, he walked toward the wedding car across the way.
And I tightened my grip on my phone.
He was right. I'd already waited five years.
So today, I wasn't going to wait anymore.
A sharp cramp twisted through my stomach.
It was a problem I'd carried since my days at the children's home. The moment I got hungry, my stomach ached.
Duane hated dealing with hassles, so I'd been the one coordinating every last detail of the wedding with the hotel.
Last night I'd been so busy confirming the final guest seating chart that I'd fallen asleep exhausted, without even eating.
Then I'd been up at three in the morning to do my makeup, and I still hadn't had a single bite of food since.
I wasn't going to be at this wedding anyway, so I figured I'd head outside the complex and see if any breakfast places were open.
I was just about to get out of the car. One foot hadn't even touched the ground when I was shoved back hard.
The corner of my forehead slammed into the doorframe. No blood, but the pain sent stars bursting across my vision.
Duane's groomsman grinned.
"Sorry about that, hon. Guess I didn't know my own strength."
