I was in the middle of trying on my dream dress—a gown with delicate lace sleeves and a gentle, flowing skirt that made me feel weightless. The boutique was bustling with chatter and laughter as brides-to-be admired themselves in the mirror. My stylist had just adjusted the veil when I heard Leon's voice, louder than the rest of the sounds, carrying from a livestream I'd tuned in while waiting for my turn.
"My girlfriend won't stop nagging me about marriage. It's driving me nuts—what should I do?"
The stylist froze, her hands hovering mid-air as she adjusted my gown's train. The lively hum in the fitting room instantly went still. I caught my reflection in the mirror, all dressed up in bridal makeup and a gown I'd dreamed of and suddenly, I felt like a tragic parody of a bride. My throat tightened and I could feel the burn of humiliation and heartbreak rising in my chest. Tears blurred my vision as I gasped for breath. Ignoring the stylist's worried calls, I ran out of the boutique, still in the dress.