The week breezed by in a flash. Lady Vanity had sohow got the news that there were twin nuptials in the winds for the Hawthornes and Montgorys, and by Saturday, there was not a single person in Sol City who was unaware of Emline’s impending marriage to Aiden.
In fact, Alia herself was more interested in Emline’s future nuptials than her own. Would Emline let herself be marched down the aisle? Would Aiden even show up at his own wedding? Would he be the one objecting to the priest?
"Did you leak the news to Lady Vanity?" Alia asked as news of Emline’s engagent was blasted on the radio. Truly, if she didn’t know better, she would think soone was deliberately paying money to publicize this matter further.
Then again, she did know better now. She raised an eyebrow, giving Matteo a side-eye while Matteo drove, humming a little tune. He was in an awfully good mood. How suspicious.
Matteo caught her side-eye and his lips twitched in an effort not to burst into laughter.
"Of course not, I would never be so crass," he said, pretending to be offended. "How can you think so little of ?"
"So it was Ronan," Alia noted without missing a beat.
"Precisely," Matteo said, "We can’t have her wriggling out of this ss by showing up with another husband. My brother cannot be cucked."
Alia snorted; Aiden had sent her a bunch of texts, complaining about his marriage with Emline. "He would be willing to cuck himself to get out of it. Do you think he will even show up today?"
"Certainly. It’s his sobriety that will be in doubt, not his presence," Matteo said easily, and Alia laughed.
They were now on their way to the dress fitting― it was to take place at a private boutique called Jenna’s Atelier, and a quick online search showed that they boasted bespoke couture and wedding gowns with a six-digit price tag, courtesy of their world-renowned designer Jenna Ruby.
Alia had taken one look and nearly screeched into her hands. This was a lot of money to splurge on a one-ti dress! anwhile, Matteo was simply unbothered, bookmarking a bunch of dresses he thought would look nice on Alia.
He had been fantasizing about his wedding to her for a long ti. Finally, his dreams were coming true. With that thought, a smile blood on his face.
They arrived at the boutique and were politely ushered inside, only to find that there were no other clients for the day. Horace Hawthorne had booked out the entire boutique for the day so that he wouldn’t be interrupted, and the man in question was already waiting on one of the couches, cane in hand.
Beside him was Annalise, who looked like she swallowed a lemon the mont she caught sight of Alia’s presence.
It did not miss Alia’s notice that Emline was absent. There were only five minutes left until the start of their appointnt.
"Alia, Matteo, you’re here!" Horace Hawthorne greeted them enthusiastically. "Good to see you are early."
"We simply couldn’t wait." Matteo smiled winningly.
Under the bright lights of the atelier, his charisma was magnetic, drawing every eye in his direction. Alia heard more than one wistful sigh from the staff on duty, and she tried not to be distracted.
"Good afternoon, Grandpa. Sorry that we made you wait," Alia said. Her grandfather waved off her apology.
"Nonsense, I just arrived slightly before you did," Horace said. "Since you’re here and Emline isn’t, you might as well get started. Do you have any idea what kind of wedding dress you’re looking for?"
"No," Alia confessed. She had been too intimidated by the price tags on the website to even consider the designs.
"How can that be? Weren’t you already married once?" Annalise cut in, her voice grating like nails on a chalkboard. Her eyes darted to the tinted windows of the boutique, and then back to her phone before they focused on Alia’s face. Clearly, she was stressed over Emline’s absence.
Since Annalise was so intent on bringing up the past, Alia might as well use it to milk sympathy points.
"I did... but back then we were so poor, and I thought Caleb was an orphan. We didn’t have enough money to hold a wedding, or even for to get a new dress." Alia’s lower lip just wobbled the tiniest bit as she made herself blink more quickly, as though her eyes were slowly tearing up.
If Emline could do this nonsense every ti she was confronted with an inconvenience, Alia could take a page or two out of her playbook.
"I just wore one of my nicer white dresses and we went to the courthouse to register my marriage."
"This is outrageous! I will rectify this imdiately," Horace declared, thumping his cane loudly against the polished marble floors. His poor granddaughter didn’t even get a special day dedicated to her wedding, all thanks to that filthy liar. He shot Annalise a dirty look for her comnts, before yelling at the walkway.
"Jenna! Your assistance is required!"
The hurried clacking of heels echoed through the hall before a cherubic face appeared. The woman seed to be in her late fifties, with graying hair at her temples and tiny wrinkles at the end of her eyes and lips, yet her beaming smile radiated vitality, and her polka dot dress made Alia’s head spin.
Alia was stunned. She had pictured soone more... severe, colder, to be in charge of such a prestigious boutique, but instead, Jenna Ruby seed more like a kindly baker who would give anyone an extra croissant because they had a bad day.
"I’m here, Horace, there is no need to fuss. Oh hello, dearie! I’m Jenna, very nice to et you!" She offered her hand for Alia to shake, and Alia could only oblige. Her hand went to Matteo next. "And you must be Matteo. No suit fitting for you today?"
"A pleasure," Matteo nodded. "I’ll only do my suit fitting if there is ti left over from Alia’s appointnt."
"Excellent, I’m glad to see I have a groom who knows who the main priority is." Jenna winked at Alia. "You got a good one right here, I can tell."
"Get Alia started on picking her dress," Horace said, sounding exasperatedly amused. "She has never worn a proper wedding gown."
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