She took mirror selfies, sent them to her bridesmaids’ group chat, and even cried a little.
So yeah, when she came for the final fitting a few weeks before the wedding, I wasn’t expecting a problem. She stepped into the gown, turned in front of the mirror, and did that slow, appraising spin brides do.
At first, she smiled.
Then something shifted. Her mouth twisted.
“Hmm,” she said, tugging at the waist. “I don’t know… It’s not exactly like the photo.”
I felt my stomach clench.
She shrugged, eyes still on the mirror.
“Yeah, but now that it’s finished, I’m seeing little things.” She pinched the skirt. “Like the lace is kind of… different? And the skirt feels heavier than I imagined.”
It’s literally the same lace you picked, I wanted to say.
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