Chapter 1 - The Cubicle With The Curtain Half Open
The lace didn't give when I breathed. I sat on the little bench in the left cubicle with my knees pressed together in white heels, the strapless dress pooled stiff around my thighs, and my hand clamped over my mouth before I even realized I'd moved it. The brown curtain was only half closed. Through the gap I could see the sales floor too clearly, the gold-framed mirrors and the row of pale gowns behind them, bright under the retail lights.
She was still holding his arm. Daniel's mother stood close to him in her navy V-neck midi dress, her long blonde hair falling forward as she leaned in, one hand curled around his sleeve and the other gripping her light beige handbag. Daniel stood there in his dark navy suit with his hands clasped in front of him, white shirt and dark tie neat, listening. They looked like they were waiting for me to come out and twirl. They didn't look like people who thought I could hear them.
That morning I was twenty-eight and sitting in a wedding dress I hadn't paid for yet.
The associate had left to get a different size in the shoes. The store hummed around us, someone zipping, someone laughing two cubicles down. I had been staring at myself in the side mirror, at the way my hair pulled back made my neck look long, when I heard her drop her voice. It wasn't meant to carry. It carried anyway through that narrow space between curtain and wall. I watched her mouth move and felt the air go thin in my chest.
She tipped her head toward Daniel and whispered it low, meant only for him, after the wedding her apartment and money will belong to us.
I didn't move at first. My fingers pressed harder against my lips. The bench felt hard through the layers of tulle. My breathing went shallow and I could hear it in my own ears. I looked down at my lap, at my hands shaking a little against the white lace, at the phone with the light-colored case sitting face-down on the bench beside my hip where I'd left it for the photos. I thought about pretending I hadn't heard. I thought about standing up and pulling the curtain shut.
Then I picked it up with both hands. My thumbs found the sides by muscle memory. I lifted it, both arms steadying each other, and pointed it through the gap in the curtain toward them. My mouth was dry and my eyes stayed fixed on the two of them outside, on her hand still on his arm, on the way neither of them had stepped back.
Keep talking, I'm recording everything.
May you like
I said it controlled and tense, not loud. The sound of my own voice surprised me. After that I didn't say another word. I just held the phone steady in front of me, my mouth slightly open, breathing through my nose so the video wouldn't shake. I watched the small screen and I watched them over the top of it at the same time.
They stopped. That was the part I would remember later more than the words. Her whisper cut off mid-breath. Daniel's head turned a fraction toward me. Then she turned too, still close to him, still holding his arm, her necklace catching the light as she shifted. Neither of them stepped away from the curtain. Neither of them came toward me. They just stood there frozen on the other side of that brown divide, staring at the phone in my raised hands while the bright lights burned down on all of us and the dress scratched at my skin.
