I make a mental note to do the same for her when Jace finally gets his shit together and pops the question.

She gives my hand a small squeeze. “It wasn’t me. They came up with the flowers and the note all on their own.”

Sawyer blows her nose. Loudly. “That was so sweet.”

We’re such a sight that when a saleslady approaches us with the dress we requested, she pales and says, “Is this a bad time? I can come back.”

“No,” Sawyer says. “It’s a perfect time.”

She’s right. This has to be a sign.

I haul myself out of the chair. “Fine, but if this isn’t it, I’m getting married in a paper bag.”

Sawyer and Dylan usher me into the fitting room.

“No giving up,” Sawyer chides. “And no getting married in a paper bag because I’m telling you, I saw this dress and it screamed Bianca.”

“If you say so.” After I strip down to my undies, I squeeze my eyes shut and raise my arms. “Just put the damn thing over my head and zip me up.”

After what feels like an eternity filled with random tugs and pulls of fabric, they finally spin me around.

And their mouths drop open.

“Holy shit,” Sawyer breathes. “I knew it would look beautiful on her, but…damn.”

“I know,” Dylan says. “It’s…”

“The one,” they say at the same time.

The suspense is killing me, especially since there are no mirrors in these tiny dressing rooms which means you have to walk out to the main room set up with random mini-stages.

“Move out of my way so I can see.”

They start to, but pause abruptly.

“Wait,” Sawyer says. “How do you want to wear your hair?”

I shrug because I haven’t given it much thought. I was too worried about finding the right dress.

“I don’t know. Up, maybe?”

Dylan winces. “You have such pretty hair though.”

“Fine. Half up and half down.”

“Perfect,” Sawyer exclaims. “Do you have a clip?”

I shake my head.

“Don’t worry.” Dylan takes the jaw clip out of her hair. “I got you.”

Sawyer starts sifting her fingers through my hair and Dylan snorts. “Never thought I’d see the day where you’d be doing Bianca’s hair.”

Sawyer starts laughing. “You and me both.”

Unfortunately, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.

They must notice my confusion because Dylan says, “Hair and makeup were always your thing, and there was a time when you made Sawyer your personal project and gave her a makeover.”

Needless to say, I don’t remember any of that. “Oh.” I look at Sawyer. “Did I do a good job?”

Sawyer and Dylan exchange a forlorn glance before Sawyer ruffles my hair. However, there’s no mistaking the sadness in her eyes. “Yeah.”

A moment later, they make me close my eyes, haul me out of the dressing room, and position me on one of the stages.

“Okay,” Sawyer declares after what feels like forever. “Open your eyes.”

When I do, I’m…speechless.

They weren’t kidding when they said the dress was perfect.

I take in the white, strapless tulle ballgown with a sweetheart neckline, full skirt, and long dramatic train. I turn a little and the sequins catch the light, making me sparkle like a ballerina in a music box.

I feel exactly like a princess.

And then I realize…

My mom’s wedding dress was a fancy sequin ball gown too.

My dad said she looked so beautiful his heart physically stopped when he saw her.

“This is the one,” I choke out.

“It fits you like a glove, you’ll hardly need any alterations,” the salesgirl says.

Dylan smiles. “It’s like it was made for you.”

“You look gorgeous,” Sawyer exhales. “Stone is going to pass out when he sees you.”

A smile spreads across my lips as visions of me wearing this dress while walking down the aisle to meet Stone flash through my mind.

Suddenly, the room starts spinning and white-hot panic punches through my chest because it becomes impossible to get enough air into my lungs.

“Get it off me,” I scream, my hands flying to my throat as beads of sweat dot my forehead and spots form in front of my eyes.

When they don’t move fast enough, I start clawing at the dress, desperate to rip the fabric off because I can’t breathe.

I’m dying.

“Get it off,” I scream as loud as I can before gasping for air. “I need it off now.”

Sawyer wraps her arms around me as Dylan starts undoing the corset.

“It’s okay,” Sawyer whispers. “It’s gonna be okay.”

No, it won’t.

Sawyer tightens her hold as my body breaks out in a fit of uncontrollable shakes.

“What’s happening?” The salesgirl squawks. “Does she need something to eat? Does she have a medical condition?”

“No,” Dylan snaps. “Just give us a few minutes alone.”

After they both help me out of the dress, Dylan runs back to the fitting room to fetch my clothes.

I don’t even realize I’m crying until Sawyer starts wiping my tears away with a tissue before forcing me to drink some water.

“I’m sorry,” I croak, feeling so embarrassed I wish the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

She gives her head a shake. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” She places her palm on my forehead. “You still feel clammy, though. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “It’s just cold feet. Happens to every bride, right?”

She cups my cheeks and the look she gives me is so full of concern my heart twists. “That didn’t look like cold feet or nerves. That was…I don’t know, it was almost like you were fighting for your life.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Bianca, do you want to marry Stone?”

I place a hand to my aching chest as another tear streams down my cheek. “I care about him, Sawyer. So much.”

She hugs me so tight it almost hurts. “I know you do, honey. But if you’re having reservations about this, and it’s clear you are…you need to listen to your heart and do what’s best for you.”

She has a point.

“But my dad already paid for everything.”

“I get that,” Sawyer says. “But you and I both know your dad would never want you to spend the rest of your life with someone if you were having serious doubts about it.”

Again…she has a point.

“It just happened so fast, you know? One moment we were graduating high school, and the next he was getting down on one knee and—”

“You never had time to think if it was what you really wanted,” Dylan interjects.

“Exactly.”

She hands me my jeans and t-shirt. “Look, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, but I really think you owe it to yourself to take some time to think about it.”

As much as I hate to admit it because it’s a bitter pill to swallow …

They’re right.