The spotlight shone down from above. Though the wedding dress wasn't from a major brand, the diamonds sparkled brightly, making it quite dazzling.
As I was about to put it on, Wendy stopped me, her suspicions piqued, "Wait a minute, something seems off about the way these diamonds shine."
"Huh?"
Wendy's family is in the jewelry business, and despite her carefree lifestyle over the years, she still has a knack for distinguishing real from fake jewels.
Just as I was about to ask more, the attendant urged, "Miss, the wedding car is arriving soon. If you don't change now, you might miss the auspicious time."
Her interruption made Wendy and me anxious.
In families like ours, timing is crucial for such a significant event.
But as I put on the dress, something felt off. When Simon Jones took my hand as we got into the car, the fabric brushing against my skin felt particularly itchy.
I gently tugged on Simon's sleeve, "Something's wrong with this dress. I think I'm having an allergic reaction."
But Simon was impatient, "Don't make a fuss on such a big day. You bought the dress yourself, don't blame me for it."
I was momentarily stunned.
I chose Simon because he was kind and good-looking.