Jay didn't go to university that morning. Instead, she sat silently in the back seat of the car, her father driving and mother next to him on the passenger seat, silence dancing between them. The steady sound of rain tapping against the roof like an unsettled heartbeat. Drops streamed down the windows, blurring the outside world into vague, trembling colors.
She rested her head lightly against the glass, staring at the gray-washed city passing by. Her breath fogged a small part of the cold window, and almost without thinking, she blew out a soft puff of air, making a round misty circle. She leaned closer and traced a face onto it two uneven eyes, a crooked smile. She giggled silently at her own doodle, then wiped it away with her sleeve.
A second puff. This time she blew a larger cloud across the window and slowly etched the letter J into it. Then a leaf. Then a flower. She was feeling the moment and was giggling continuously at her own childish playing. And then the sudden screech of brakes threw her forward slightly.
Her mother's voice broke through the spell. "We're here, Jay. Let's go."
The smile slid from her face like a curtain being drawn. Her fingers tightened around the umbrella resting beside her, and without a word, she stepped out of the car, opening the umbrella to shield herself from the rain. The fabric stretched open with a soft snap, and the cold dampness rushed around her, causing her to shiver.
She looked up. In front of her stood a grand showroom La Douce Mariée etched in golden letters above the glass doors. Inside, glowing chandeliers sparkled over elegant mannequins draped in silk and lace, gowns glowing like trapped ghosts.
Her mother appeared at her side, locking her arm firmly around Jay's shoulders and steering her forward, her touch more of a push than a guide. Her father followed quietly behind them, his eyes fixed on the ground.
They entered the warmth of the showroom, where a smiling female manager greeted them with professional enthusiasm and confirmed her identity, "Mrs Miller?" getting a nod from jay's mother she said, "Welcome! Please come this way."
She led them to a plush private lounge at the back. The room was tastefully decorated; velvet couches, soft lighting, golden-framed mirrors. Jay sat quietly on the edge of a couch, hands folded in her lap, her eyes distant.
Her mother disappeared into the adjoining section, presumably to pick out gowns. Moments later, she returned, eyes bright with excitement.
"Jay, I've selected a few gowns for you. Go on, try them let's see what suits you best."
Jay rose slowly. Her gaze didn't touch her mother but instead turned directly to the manager.
"I will choose my own dress," she said, her voice low but firm.
The manager hesitated, glancing uncertainly at her mother.
Jay's eyes were sharp and unwavering. "Show me," she repeated.
With a nervous nod, the manager gestured for her to follow, and together they stepped through the curtain of dresses. Behind them, her mother sighed, visibly stewing in the lounge, lips pressed into a line of silent fury.
Jay ran her hand across rows of gowns, letting the fabrics speak to her satin, chiffon, organza. She paused in front of three dresses. One in a dramatic, sultry black with beaded lace. One in deep maroon a rich blood hue that shimmered when it moved. And one in a soft ivory white, simple and ethereal.
She took the maroon dress first.
…..
The curtain swept open. Jay stepped out into the lounge.
The maroon gown hugged her body like it had been stitched for her. The cherry blood-red beads scattered across the bodice sparkled in the light, catching fire with each breath. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders, untamed but regal, bare face with cool expression, aloof eyes that were giving untouchable vibe only made her presence more commanding.
She didn't smile. Her mother, who had been stewing, found herself frozen caught between awe and alarm. The girl standing before her wasn't the quiet daughter she'd raised to follow rules and honor obligations.
She looked like a queen.
Before her mother could speak, the manager hurried in with Jay's phone. "Miss, your phone has been ringing. Several times."
Jay took it, saw the name on the screen Venelope. A small smile passed across her lips as she answered briefly, speaking softly, then typing something and turning the phone off.
Her mother narrowed her eyes. "Who were you talking to?"
Jay didn't respond. Instead, she handed the phone back to the assistant and turned back to examine herself in the mirror, trailing her fingers along the fabric of the gown as if trying to assess if it will disturb her in any way.
Her mother stood, hands on her hips. "Jay, change the dress. Let's see the others too."
Jay didn't budge. "My friend is coming," she said calmly. Then glanced at the clock on the wall. "She should be here soon."
….
Ten minutes later, the boutique doors swung open with a burst of energy. Venelope stormed in, her hair damp from the rain, cheeks flushed, eyes sparkling.
She caught sight of Jay in the maroon gown and gasped theatrically, "gorgeous" then instantly dropping into an exaggerated curtsy. "My lady! What's the order?"
Jay couldn't help it. A small laugh slipped past her lips. The coldness in her face melted, just slightly, and for the first time since stepping into the building, she looked… like herself.
Venelope strode forward and tilted her head, examining the dress. "Is this the one? Have we found the dress?"
Jay shrugged with a playful glint in her eye. "I was waiting for you. Thought we could choose something together."
Venelope grinned. "That's the spirit."
She glanced around. "Where's your mom? Isn't she supposed to be here making the rules?"
Before Jay could reply, her mother appeared behind them, brushing down her blazer and offering her hand.
"I'm her mother," she said curtly, extending her hand toward Venelope.
Venelope grasped it firmly, flashing her brightest smile. "Ah, Madam! You look so young. Honestly, I thought you were another customer. I'm Venelope Jay's friend."
Jay's mother, who had been inwardly bristling at the intrusion, softened just a little. Flattery, it seemed, still worked wonders.
"Come," she said, motioning to the couch with a proud smile. "Let's help her together."
Venelope, never missing a beat, gestured grandly. "After you, please."
They both sat down, and for a strange moment, Jay watched them her mother and her friend side by side. Venelope's confidence and casual grace made her stand out even more against her mother's poised elegance. Jay couldn't help but feel a mix of admiration and envy. How easily Venelope could charm, sway, own the room.
Still wearing the maroon gown, Jay turned towards the mirror, and unintentionally gave a slow twirl in front of them. The dress flared like a flame, catching light in every fold.
Both women on the couch let out soft sighs of admiration.
"A beautiful bride," her mother whispered, half to herself.
"Without a doubt" venelope added with admiration.
But Jay wasn't listening. She was staring at her reflection again, not for the dress, but for the girl in the mirror.
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