I froze for a moment, staring at the garment bag they held. It bore the unmistakable logo of MN’s high-end bridal collection. The gown Brian had picked for me during our trip to MN’s headquarters was merely a limited-edition runway piece. This, however, was a bespoke masterpiece, crafted with precision and care. The difference wasn’t just in the craftsmanship—it was in intention.
I forced a bitter smile. “Thank you, but I’m not Laurel.”
The delivery person looked at me, confused. Their expression shifted as realization dawned. They stammered out a series of apologies before scurrying away, clearly embarrassed.
As I watched the delivery crew leave, I caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of my eye. Brian had just returned—and Laurel was with him.
“Hi, Cousin, how are you? It’s great to see you!” she greeted me with overflowing enthusiasm. Yet, I could sense the insincerity in her tone as she continued, “I was planning to drop by and, I bumped into your fiancé in the parking lot. So, we walked here together. I hope you don’t mind.”
The way she pressed on “don’t mind” was a deliberate dig.
Brian frowned slightly, seemingly annoyed by the way she addressed him as my fiancé.