Six full years, and I'd lived so frugally that everything I owned fit in a single suitcase.
I grabbed it and drove to the bridal shop.
The wedding dress had been custom-made before my mother passed. She'd overseen every detail herself. It was filled with her love, her blessing.
The wedding was off, but that dress was coming with me.
I hadn't even made it through the door when I saw Vivian Porter holding a pair of scissors, demanding the staff alter my dress.
"Stewart, I really love this gown. It's just too small. Tell them to let out the waist right now. We can't let it delay our wedding."
Vivian clung to Stewart's arm, her voice syrupy and simpering.
Stewart was busy negotiating with the shop manager.
"Call the woman who ordered it. I'll pay half a million on top of the original price. She can hand the dress over to my wife."
For Vivian, he really would throw money around without a second thought.
The manager's eyes lit up at the number. He turned and headed for the back room, saying he'd call me.
Vivian kept waving the scissors around the fabric, measuring, snipping at air. My heart was in my throat.
"I don't agree!" I charged in. "Vivian Porter, put my dress down!"