Twisted Vows, Hidden Desire

Amelia stepped inside a boutique with her mother, Margaret, and her best friend, Hannah. The walls were lined with elegant white gowns, each one more stunning than the last. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a soft glow over the luxurious space.

Margaret's eyes lit up with excitement as she gazed around. "This is it, Amelia. The perfect place to find the dress," she said, clasping her hands together with a wide smile.

Amelia offered a small, polite smile in return. Her heart wasn't in it, but she played the role as convincingly as she could.

Hannah nudged her playfully. "Cheer up, bride-to-be! This is supposed to be the fun part," she teased, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, fun," Amelia muttered under her breath. She glanced around, her eyes scanning the racks of gowns. Pretend to be happy, she reminded herself. You agreed to this.

A consultant approached, all smiles and charm. "Welcome, ladies! Who's the lucky bride?" she asked, looking around at the trio.

Margaret stepped forward, her smile brimming with pride. "This beautiful young woman right here," she said, pulling Amelia gently toward the consultant.

"Congratulations!" The consultant's eyes gleamed. "You're in the right place. We have gowns for every bride, from modern chic to timeless elegance. Do you have a style in mind?"

Amelia hesitated, her mind blank. She hadn't even thought about it. It's just a dress, she told herself. It doesn't matter.

"Something simple, but elegant," Hannah said, stepping in. "Nothing too heavy or flashy. She's all about understated beauty." She winked at Amelia, her support shining through her words.

Margaret nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes. My daughter is naturally beautiful. She doesn't need too much embellishment."

The consultant smiled knowingly. "I have just the thing. Come with me."

They followed her deeper into the boutique. Amelia trailed behind, her fingers brushing lightly over the silky fabrics of the gowns they passed. She tried to push down the weight in her chest.

"Here we are," the consultant said, stopping before a display of dresses. She pulled out a sleek ivory gown with delicate lace sleeves and a subtle shimmer in the fabric. "This one just arrived last week. It's one of my favorites."

Hannah's eyes widened. "Oh, Amelia, try that one first!"

Margaret beamed. "Yes, darling. This one is calling your name."

With a soft sigh, Amelia nodded. "Alright. I'll try it."

Minutes later, she stood in front of a large mirror, the gown hugging her figure perfectly. The lace sleeves added a touch of grace, and the gentle shimmer caught the light as she moved. Margaret's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh, my baby," Margaret said, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "You look absolutely breathtaking."

Hannah gasped, stepping closer. "Amelia, you look like a princess. No, scratch that — a queen."

Amelia stared at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. She looked beautiful, yes, but it felt like she was looking at someone else. Her heart was still elsewhere, far from wedding dresses and fairy-tale endings.

"Do you love it?" the consultant asked, tilting her head with a warm smile.

Amelia glanced at her mother, then at Hannah. They're so happy. She smiled, small but convincing. "Yes," she said softly. "I love it."

---

Meanwhile, across town, Ethan stood in front of a full-length mirror at Kingsman Tailors, a sleek suit shop known for its custom-fitted suits. The faint scent of leather and cedarwood filled the air.

Ryan sat on a leather couch nearby, his legs crossed and his phone in hand. He looked up and smirked. "Man, you clean up well."

Ethan adjusted the collar of the navy-blue suit jacket he was trying on. He glanced at himself in the mirror, tilting his head to the side. "It's alright, I guess."

"Alright?" Ryan raised an eyebrow. "You look like you're about to step onto the cover of a fashion magazine. Come on, man, give yourself some credit."

The tailor, an older gentleman with sharp eyes and steady hands, approached, straightening the lapels of Ethan's jacket. "This is a classic fit. Sharp but not too stiff. Perfect for a groom."

Ethan's jaw tightened at the word groom. It echoed in his mind like a bell. He glanced at himself in the mirror again, but this time, all he saw was a man doing what others expected of him.

"Do you have this in black?" Ethan asked the tailor, pulling at the sleeves.

Ryan frowned. "Black? Come on, bro. Navy is classy. It's bold. Black is for funerals."

Ethan gave him a look. "Exactly."

Ryan's smile faded. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "Hey, you good?"

Ethan hesitated, his gaze still on the mirror. He exhaled slowly. "I'm just doing what's expected of me, that's all."

"Man, you're not a robot," Ryan said, standing up and walking over to him. "You don't have to do this if it's not what you want."

Ethan turned to face him. "What choice do I have, Ryan? I've got family pressure on one side and Claire walking away from me on the other. Tell me, what am I supposed to do?"

Ryan stayed quiet for a moment, his face thoughtful. "You could start by being honest with yourself. Forget what everyone else wants."

Ethan shook his head, a bitter smile forming. "It's too late for that."

The tailor returned with a black suit jacket, handing it to Ethan. Without a word, Ethan slipped it on. It fit perfectly. Sleek. Sharp. Clean.

"Happy now?" Ryan asked with a sigh.

Ethan glanced at himself one last time. The man in the mirror looked powerful, composed, and in control. But only on the outside.

"Yeah," Ethan muttered, his eyes distant. "Happy."

---

Later that evening, Amelia sat by her bedroom window, still wearing the ivory gown. The night sky stretched beyond the glass, stars faintly twinkling. She hugged her knees to her chest, her gaze lost in the distance.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She glanced at the screen. It was a text from Ethan.

> Ethan: "Got my suit. We're all set for the big day, huh?"

She stared at the message for a long time. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed back.

> Amelia: "Yeah, all set."

She put the phone down and rested her head on her knees, eyes closed. The weight of everything settled on her shoulders.

All set.

Two simple words. But they carried the weight of an entire future she hadn't chosen.