Six Years Wasted I Let Her Wear the Wedding Dress

Even Andrea Stephens, who rarely smiled, let one slip now. "Stunning. That gown might as well have been made for you."

Her eyes flicked toward Spencer, knowing and sly. "Don't tell me my son gave it to you as a gift?"

Basking in everyone's praise, Irma Fox spun in a delighted little circle.

"Spencer, your parents think it looks beautiful. What do you think?"

Spencer nodded, indulgent.

"It does look good."

Irma's chin lifted in triumph, and she shot me a smug little smile.

But my gaze drifted slowly down to that gown, and the blood drained from my face.

"Spencer, is that the gown I picked out for my own wedding?"

"Yes."

He said it like it was nothing.

"She's a young girl, hasn't seen much of the world. She was just curious, only trying it on. It's no big deal."

Irma planted her hands on her hips and huffed.

"Spencer, who exactly hasn't seen much of the world?"

"You, obviously."

He laughed softly and pinched her puffed-up cheek.

"Aaagh! Mr. and Mrs. Stephens, your son is picking on me! I demand a rematch!"

The two of them pretended to scuffle, carrying on like a pair of bickering children.

Irma seized the chance to loop her arms around Spencer's neck and wrenched at his head.

Spencer just smiled through all of it, doting, even reaching out to steady her waist.

Afraid she might fall.

"Slow down, you little maniac."

I watched the whole thing, stunned.

With me, Spencer had always been mature, composed, never once letting this childish side show.

He never roughhoused with me like this.

Because the more he touched me, the more elaborate the disinfecting ritual he'd have to perform afterward.

Yet with Irma, somehow, the rules didn't apply.

"This gown's in the way. Let me get it off and then I'll really take you down."

Having lost the arm-wrestling match, Irma peeled the wedding gown off her body and tossed it carelessly to the side.

That gown had taken me two months of careful searching to find.

I'd wanted to marry Spencer in it, dressed in my finest.

But now the gown was soiled.

And my love had long since been torn to shreds, beyond saving.

Seeing my eyes fixed on the rumpled gown crumpled on the floor, my face dark, Andrea sneered, dripping with mockery.

"Spencer, didn't I tell you? Girls who come up from the country are always making trouble."

"One ratty gown, and she has to put on a face over it."

I forced the tears back and set down the wedding plans in my hand.

"I have things to do. I'll be going now."

"Deborah!"

I'd barely stepped through the front doors when Spencer came chasing after me, calling my name.

"What's gotten into you this time?"

He caught my wrist, baffled.

"We agreed to discuss the wedding today. We haven't even started, and you're already throwing a fit and storming off. How does that look?"

"It wasn't easy getting my parents to agree to this marriage. They set aside important matters just to wait for you to show up."

"Deborah Butler, even tantrums have a limit."

"No one is going to keep indulging your spoiled-princess temper, over and over again!"

Looking at his irritated face, I let out one cold laugh after another.

"Then tell me. Why is my wedding gown on Irma's body?"

"Why is it that every single time we sit down to discuss the wedding, Irma shows up to wreck it?"

"You think I'm the one being unreasonable? Spencer, you saw how your family treated me back there. If you also think this marriage is too much of a stretch, then maybe we should just call it off."

Spencer's brows knit tight.

"Didn't I just step in and smooth things over for you back there?"