Honestly, I couldn’t believe the dress had arrived so quickly. I had Troy ship it straight here to the condo. I still had fittings to do, but they would be done here. I guess something about the bridal shop that day left a sour taste in my mouth. Troy understood completely and had no problem with making those arrangements for the alterations to be made from the comfort of my own home.

  The dress was in the closet as expected, a silky garment bag lined in shimmering beading. Even the bag was spectacular and my excitement I couldn’t hide now. The grin creased my face and I took the dress, going back into the bedroom.

  “Wait until you see it, Clare,” I told her, unwrapping the garment.

  Several states away, Clare sat in anticipation, her hand on her mouth. “I can’t wait,” she chanted, and then the room went silent.

  Weeks ago Troy had told Stasha that silence was nothing but good and he’d definitely been right about that.

  The garment bag fell away and the dress of my dreams lay in my hands. Clare sat, awe-stuck as she stared at it, and I had no words either. This dress truly was beautiful.

  “Oh, Rox,” she said, lowering her hands from her mouth. “Roxie, it’s beautiful. Put it on. Put it on. I want to see.”

  I fanned the dress out, wanting to do just that, but the tag gave me pause. Raising the gown, I studied the square piece of material stitched to the back strap of the dress.

  “What’s wrong?” Clare asked. If my face didn’t give away something was wrong, my pause must have.

  Chewing my lip, I tried to make sense of this. I held the tag, shaking my head. “Um, nothing. Just a mistake,” and upon further study I concluded that had to be it. The dress did seem small, a size ten like I tried on in the dress shop. I faced Clare. “I’m sorry. They sent me the wrong size.”

  “Oh…” Clare cocked her head, frowning. She crossed a leg under the other as she sat in front of her computer on the floor. “Is there anyway you can make do for today? So I can see you in it?”

  I dropped the tag, giving her a small smile to hide my disappointment. “I want you to get the full experience. Is it okay if we rain-check?”

  Her face went sympathetic in understanding. “Of course. You going to get this figured out now?”

  There wasn’t much I could do right now, but I could call Troy to make sure they got the right one ordered. “Mmhmm,” I told her. “I’ll see what my wedding planner can do as far as getting me one quickly. I really want you to see it.”

  “And I want to see it too, Rox. I’ll let you go. Hugs and kisses.”

  Though what happened felt like just another thing of many today, I did manage to smile at her. “Hugs and kisses.”

  After I let her go, I had Troy’s number on my cellphone within a few minutes, but another voice threw me.

  “Hello, Mr. Daniels line. I’m his assistant Stasha. How can I help you?”

  “Stasha?” I questioned, confused. “Hey, it’s me, Roxie Peterson.”

  “Ms. Peterson,” she said, the familiar calming nature about her voice. “How are you this afternoon?”

  “I’m well. Is everything okay with Troy? I noticed you’re answering his phone.”

  A light laughter hit her voice. “Oh, he’s fine. He’s at a wedding today. All his calls have been forwarded to my line.”

  My own laughter touched my throat at my initial worry. Of course he was at a wedding. He was a wedding planner. With how personal Troy was, I almost forgot I didn’t solely have his attention. Amusement hit me. I hoped that wasn’t early signs of one of those “bridezillas.” I dreaded that.

  “But can I help you with something?” Stasha asked after a few moments.

  “I hope so. I had my wedding gown delivered to my house.”

  “Ah, yes. They buzzed our office to let us know they delivered it. Is everything all right with it?”

  “No, unfortunately,” I said, taking a seat on the bed, the dress across my lap. “It came in too small.”

  “Oh, dear. I apologize about that. What an inconvenience.”

  “No, it’s fine. Fine,” I assured her patting the air. Yeah, it was a mistake, but I didn’t want her thinking it was a big deal. This could be easily corrected.

  “I suppose you’re wanting another dress then, Ms. Peterson?”

  “If you could thanks. Unless you know a way I could drop two sizes by summer.” I laughed at the ludicrousness of my joke, waiting for Stasha’s response. And, I did wait.

  And wait.

  In fact, I waited so long I didn’t think she heard my joke. But then, she spoke again.

  “Did you want me to hold off on ordering a new dress then, Ms. Peterson?”

  I frowned. I guess she didn’t get my joke. “Oh, no, Stasha. I was just kidding. Two sizes?” I paused with a laugh. “That’s crazy.”

  “Oh, all right. I’m sorry about that. It’s just not unheard of so I didn’t know if you were serious. In fact, my sister recently lost a size for her own wedding and it only took her a few short weeks really. A girl wants to look her best on one of the most important days of her life. After all, those pictures are forever.”

  It took me a moment to comprehend what she was saying to me, but by the time my mind had cleared enough to speak, she was already moving on with the conversation.

  “I’ll move forward with the order then. Again, I apologize for the inconvenience. I hope this didn’t spoil anything.”

  “No, no,” I said, shaking my head, her words still marinating. “I, um… I’m good, thanks. No, harm done.”

  She may have mentioned something else, but my thumb had clicked, turning off the phone. I sat stationary for a moment, mostly because I didn’t know what to do or how to react. Eventually, the dress made it back to its bag, hanging up deep in my side of the closest so Griffin didn’t accidently see it. But then, I took a seat on the couch, my arms crossed over my knees while the ceiling fan spun into the silent room.

  I rested my chin on my knees, trying not to read into anything that just happened on the phone. On the one hand, I did open the door by making a joke about dropping two sizes, but on the other, Stasha agreed with me so quickly I’d quite literally been thrown for a loop. My size wasn’t something unknown to me. I’d never been a tiny girl, and in this town, I knew exactly how I looked to others. I was reminded of it every day, every time I put a foot to the streets or made appearances with my well-known fiancé. If I didn’t see what others thought first hand, I was made blatantly aware of how the world viewed me anytime I surfed the net for my name, which was why I eventually stopped searching. I was different from these people, that I knew, but I…

  I put the thought away. I could feel the agitation with what had just happened growing under the surface and I didn’t want to give it room to grow. Stasha didn’t mean anything by what she said. She just misunderstood what I said and I couldn’t let her quick agreement get to me. She was from this town and that’s just how people felt and thought. I couldn’t let that get to me.

  Choosing to busy my mind, I snapped on the T.V., folding the laundry from a basket in front of the couch. I’d started it before I went to get coffee and it needed finishing. The E! Channel was on, but I didn’t feel like any gossip today. When Griffin popped up in a suit waving on a stretch of red carpet though, I kept the channel there.

  Picking up my iPad, I went to his schedule. I had it preloaded there as Mickey sent it to me weekly. Not to my surprise, he had a charity event yesterday. I knew that as I looked at his schedule every day, but I forgot what the event was for.

  I had to smile as I lowered my iPad. This particular event donated money to low income neighborhoods for basketball equipment and my heart swelled with pride. He really was paying it forward, and looked damn good doing it in his suit and skinny tie. With his hair slicked back and looking fly, who would have known that guy preferred to be in just jeans and a t-shirt drinking a beer on the couch every night.

  I missed him so, holding my legs while I took him in. He was a natural at this, this life. He took me to something like this once, and I practically hid in the wings. It had been a movie premiere for an indie film and I hated every moment. Sucked because it looked like so much fun from here. It just wasn’t for me.

  My eyes flashed as a girl popped out of the wings, crossing in front of him. She smacked a kiss on his lips, the announcer talking about the excited fans, and I realized he’d called me about this yesterday. This must have been the particular instance he’d referred to.

  People sure were thirsty, weren’t they? Really, I was disgusted by the desperate girl and was happy when the channel moved focus off that. But what they moved to didn’t do me much better. Actually, the next frame made my stomach turn. A girl sat with my fiancé at a booth, a single picture snapped from a camera, and she was a girl I’d seen only moments prior driving down Sunset Drive.

  She’d been half naked all over Griffin at the time.

  Rose sat with him, close, and she laughed at something he said to her, the picture frozen in time. They cropped the photo tightly and just the two sat in the photo, smiling in their own world around them.

  “Is the player playing the field?” the announcer said, coming across the screen. “Griffin Chandler is supposedly engaged to a girl from Wisconsin, Rosie Peterson.”

  My head shot back as if I just bit into a lemon. My name was Roxie. Not Rosie.

  “But we here at E!” the announcer continued, “believe this Wild Rose seems like a better choice. She’s exquisite and the two really suit each other. Let us know what you think with hashtag Griffin & Rose.”

  My face hot, I ripped the laundry basket off the table. I needed to do something. Put shit away before I threw something or whatever. I got to the bedroom and did just that, stuffing socks into drawers with heated aggression. I was really getting sick and tired to death of this shit, people generally being dickheads because they didn’t feel Griffin and I belonged together. I knew we didn’t look the same. I fucking knew that, but it wasn’t always about looks. It wasn’t. Griffin wanted me for me and I wanted him for him. Yeah, would others look quote end quote “better” with him? People like Rose? Possibly, but that was subjective. I knew I was different. That to some I might have been considered plain, but that didn’t matter. I was comfortable with myself. I accepted myself and everything that I was.

  So why are you getting so mad then?

  Grunting as I stuffed laundry, I blamed that on the day. Clare bombarding me about my dad even though her intentions were admirable, that stupid fucking billboard with Griffin and Rose, Stasha taking my joke to lose weight so quickly, and now all this crap all over E! On top of it all, I was missing Griffin and that just made everything so much worse. I was feeling stressed, hurt, and now all I wanted to do was call him, which was ridiculous. I couldn’t expect him to drop everything he was doing now to make me feel better.

  Taking a breath, I held the sock drawer, closing my eyes for a moment to calm down. I really needed to get it together. I didn’t need a babysitter and Griffin should never feel like he needed to be one for me. Perhaps, I just needed a short break from all this planning and whatnot. Griffin told me I should get out once and see the beach. I think I needed a moment for just myself. Me. Roxie Peterson.

  I shoved Griffin’s sock drawer closed, a crunch hitting the air. I pulled on the handle to take the drawer back out, but it got jammed on the track. With some jiggling, I got the drawer free, sliding it out completing from the dresser. The end of a thick, brown folder came with it and reality set in that’s what had gotten jammed, the corner of it bent and ripped with a single tear. The folder got off easy considering the job I just did to it, and opening it, the papers inside didn’t seem damaged.

  I shut it closed, rising from my knees. Placing the folder down on the bed, I decided to get some tape, hoping the folder could be mended with such a quick fix. I didn’t make it far as I stopped at a word on the top. The word let me in on the folder’s contents, and quite frankly…

  Confused the hell out of me.

  I picked it up, reading Griffin’s full name at the top: Griffin Allen Chandler, and then mine right underneath it: Roxanne Nicole Peterson, but something was between our names though—something between us.

  I read two words: Prenuptial Agreement.

  Why would he have this? Was my first thought. But one better yet, why would he hide this?

  I flipped it open without thought.

  The agreement seemed standard though I wasn’t a lawyer. It told me what I got if we ever divorced, as well as what he got to keep with areas for suggested changes, and all kinds of things went through my head as I thumbed through it. Had he intended to give this to me? It had been hidden, or was he just trying to figure out how to give this to me? One thing was for certain though. Only one person had the answers.

  I pulled my phone out of my pocket, not really caring if I’d be bothering him now.

  He only made me wait two rings.

  “Hey, baby. What’s up?” Some noise was in the background, voices, all kinds made up of both girls and guys.

  I lay back on the bed, pushing my hand through my hair. “Nothing. You busy? Sounds like you got a lot going on with you.”

  “Nah, me and the guys are just having a few drinks. We won the game today did you see?”

  I shook my head though he couldn’t see. “I’ve been out all day.”

  “It was awesome. Totally kicked D’s ass—” Some shuffling sounded followed by a deep and distinct “Hey!” Griffin’s voice. Next thing I knew, another voice sounded into the phone.

  “Just to be clear,” the voice said, and I didn’t have to rack my brain for long. It sounded like Griffin’s friend from college, D. Griffin did come to Indiana to play his team. “He didn’t kick my ass. My team was just having an off night. Anyway, what’s up, Roxie? How’re doing? It’s Diondre if you didn’t know.”

  I’d never forget that sloppy voice anywhere, though he sounded way more sober than the last run-in I had with him at a party. I shook my head again. “Hey, D. I’m cool. You?”

  “Cool, cool. And don’t worry. I’m taking good care of Griffin.”

  I wondered about “good care,” but I didn’t have time to ask as Griffin’s voice came back into the receiver. He mumbled, “Mother fucker” before speaking to me.

  “Sorry about that, babe. What’s going on is everything okay?”

  For some reason when he said that, my eyes got blurry. They got fuckin’ blurry and I had no idea why. I sniffed.

  “Roxie? Roxie baby, what’s going on? You sound upset.”

  I bit my lip, the only way I could control my sudden emotions. I swallowed. “Can you find a quiet place and talk to me for a second? Please?”

  “Okay, okay. Just two seconds, all right?”

  I nodded this time. Again, he couldn’t see but I did it anyway. I held on until suddenly things got quiet on the other end.

  “Hey, I’m in the bathroom. Now, tell me what’s wrong. Do I need to come home?” His voice was quick, breathy, and I knew he was panicking. I felt even worse for being an emotional basket case.

  “I’m sorry. I just…” I paused, rubbing my eyes. My god, I really was crying over this shit. “I just, I found something and I don’t understand it. I need your help to understand it.”

  “What is it?’

  I held it up, swallowing as I tried to read it through the thick sheen coating my eyes. What did this mean exactly? Should I be feeling all these emotions? Confusion? Hurt? Maybe I felt that way because I didn’t understand it. I needed his help like I said. I let out a breath before speaking. “I found something in your sock drawer. I wasn’t snooping. I was just trying to put your clothes away and…”

  He remained silent for a while, but with his sudden lengthy breath I knew that he knew exactly what I found.

  “You found the prenup,” he simply said, and I didn’t know what I expected him to say. But I didn’t think it was that. I expected maybe some type of hurried response, but he seemed calm—weirdly so.

  He let out a breath into the phone. “It was Mickey’s idea. He put the prenup into the wedding packet we had him create and didn’t tell me was doing so. I slid it out so you wouldn’t have to deal with it.”

  The tension inside me turned down a bit. This agreement hadn’t been his doing, and in fact, he didn’t want me to have to deal with it so he removed it. But that’s where that little “bit” of tension stopped.

  “So why do you still have it?” I asked. If he’d taken it out why had he kept it?

  And so he breathed into the phone again. “Because of something Mickey said. I thought the damn thing was ridiculous at first, but then he made some points. He said I needed to think about you.”

  “Me?” I asked, shocked. “What about me? Why would this help me?”

  “Because if something did happen you’d be taken care of. I don’t give a shit about any of this, Roxie. My money. Whatever. I didn't have it before I’d make do but… If something, heaven for - fuckin’- bid did happen to us, I want you taken care. That’s what I need.”

  I thought about that. But the thing was, the scenario in which he stated meant something did happen. That something being a divorce; essentially the end of us.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked, and that panic I expected in his voice before now made its appearance. “We can rip the damn thing up. I told you. I don’t need it for me, but I didn’t think it was right, or fair for me to make that decision on my own. We’re a pair now. We will be a pair. We go big together, tackle things together, remember?”

  We also said once we wouldn’t hurt each other. But this hurt. It did.

  I pushed my hand over my face, fighting back the tears. But this time, I didn’t let on to the emotion I was experiencing. I didn’t let him hear it in the phone. “We should talk about this when you get home.”

  Because I couldn’t do so now. Not without crying.

  “Okay, that’s fair. You call me though, okay? If you need me?”