14. Claire

© viennamata — This work is protected by copyright. Do not repost, copy, or translate without my permission.

Claire

I called Joy and Aiden as soon as Drew walked out the door, and so far, it's going just about how I expected.

"What the actual fuck, Claire! Clearly the accident also damaged your brain, because why, on this sinking ship called Earth, would you say yes to marrying that—that, ugh—that lame-ass excuse of a sexy-ass, uber-successful man? Honestly, Claire, you have got to love yourself more. This is infuriating!"

Yup. Exactly what I thought she'd say.

Joy has always been the type to tell you exactly how she feels, and I love her for it.

Aiden had been quiet the whole time, but then he said,

"You know I love you, Claire. I'll always support you the best way I can. Drew is an idiot, and I know you can do better—but I also know you love him a lot. And you're having a baby with him, which changes things. I just ask that when he chooses his family—or Becca—over you again, you finally realize there's more, and better, out there for you. For you and your baby."

I knew Aiden would take the gentler, more supportive route, but I still caught that he said when and not if Drew would choose his family.

That hurt.

It hurt worse because deep down, I'm scared. Scared that it will happen again. Scared that this time, it'll be me and my child left disappointed. Scared that when his family finally pulls him away, they'll take my child too.

Joy snaps me out of my spiraling thoughts when she says,

"Now that we've gotten that off our chests and completely chewed your ass out, Claire—you are going to be a beautiful bride, a great wife, and an awesome mother. Now, as beautiful as you are, we need to get your hair done, nails done, find a dress, shoes, wedding venue, catering, a place... You think we can just use your house? Hell, it's big enough! Your lawn looks like the Biltmore Estate! I'm sure we can throw something together."

If you are reading this book anywhere but Wattpad, then it has been stolen. You can read this book for free on Wattpad. The title is "From me to you and back" by viennamata.

And there she is—the other side of Joy. Once she gets it out of her system, she's all in.

One of her favorite things to tell Aiden and me is, "Shit or get off the pot," and then she usually bursts into song:

"One thing that you gotta remember, one monkey don't stop no show. This train gon' keep on rolling. Aw yeah, this thing called life gon' keep on going."

That's Joy—do what you need to do, then keep it pushing, because the world keeps spinning even when yours feels like it's stopped.

"Whoa, slow down, Joy," I laugh as she makes an exasperated noise on the phone.

"Drew's handling all the wedding stuff. He's texting me about a few things I'd like, but he's got it covered. My only job is to look pretty and show up! I've been nauseated all morning, so let's hope that 'morning sickness' actually sticks to mornings and is gone by lunch."

Joy and Aiden came to pick me up.

We got our nails done and are now hunting through racks of off-the-rack wedding dresses, because 1) we don't have time for custom fittings, and 2) my budget doesn't exactly scream, "I require 1,000 handpicked diamonds sewn into my veil."

Nope. My budget is more like, "It's white, it holds all the jiggles in place, and it would make Becca drop dead."

The bridal consultant helping us has huffed more times than any of us can count.

First, she brought out one of those skin-tight mermaid dresses that burst into random tulle at the knees. I know some people like that style, but it's never been mine.

Then she brought out the most 1950s-60s wedding dress I have ever seen... I think it was even a little yellowed from age.

It had long sleeves, cone-shaped boob cups, a narrowing corset, and the biggest crinoline petticoat you've ever seen.

I tried it on just so we could all get a good laugh, but the bridal consultant huffed like she actually expected me to love it.

As we combed through the racks, Aiden walked up to me with a dress and said,

"I think this is the one. It's you—in lace form."

The dress was stunning.

It was made almost entirely of lace, with a beautifully intricate, floral lace overlay covering a fitted underlayer, giving it a sophisticated yet slightly vintage feel.

The lace was especially delicate around the neckline and sleeves, with a deep, scalloped plunge that was daring yet so feminine.

The long sleeves and fitted silhouette added an effortless elegance, while the lace itself gave the whole dress a romantic, almost ethereal vibe.

I went into the fitting room to try it on.

When I stepped out and looked in the mirror, I lost my breath—and for a moment, we all went silent.

I stood there, wrapped in whispered lace, the delicate floral patterns tracing across my skin like vines spun from dreams.

The bodice dipped into a daring, scalloped plunge, balanced by the modest grace of long sleeves, every stitch a testament to patient craftsmanship.

The skirt, sleek and sculpted, trailed behind me like a whisper of moonlight, and the entire gown seemed to glow softly, as if it had been woven from the very essence of romance itself.

I LOVED IT.

I knew Drew would love it too—and most importantly, I was pretty sure Becca would literally drop dead when she saw it.

You know—silver linings and all.