Chapter 3 Wedding gown

The boutique smelled of perfume, silk, and the faint musk of polished wood. Anna was already there, twirling in front of a rack of gowns, humming a tune I didn’t recognize. Melissa drifted behind her, inspecting each dress with an air of control.

I stepped inside, heels clicking lightly against the marble floor. I didn’t flinch at their smiles or the way they glanced at me. They made me uncomfortable, yes, but I would not let it show. From the way they looked at me, it was clear I wasn’t meant to belong here. I could feel it in every glance, every tilt of the head. They acted as if I were standing in their way, as if my presence was an inconvenience that needed to be tolerated.

Anna’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she finally spoke. “Finally,” she said with a sly smile, “you’re leaving.”

“Not a freeloader talking,” I said flatly, keeping my tone even.

Melissa chuckled quickly, trying to smooth over the moment. “Anna is joking, Rose. You’re sisters now. You’ll get used to each other.”

I raised an eyebrow. “My mother only gave birth to one daughter.”

Melissa blinked, her expression tightening. “You should try to be more magnanimous and kind. Your husband will love you if you do.”

I let a small, calm smile cross my lips. “That’s rich, coming from a woman who has been a mistress for years and gave birth to an illegitimate daughter. If you had all this advice, why didn’t you apply it and get your own husband instead of breaking other people’s families?”

The boutique went silent. A few assistants froze mid-step, and even the other customers paused, glancing at us curiously. Anna’s smirk disappeared, replaced by uncertainty. Melissa’s lips pressed into a thin line, her composure faltering.

We moved down the aisle of gowns, and Anna tried to regain her confidence. “Well, at least you’ll have fun trying these on,” she said with forced cheer.

I glanced at her, flat and unamused. “Fun isn’t my priority. Precision is. I’m here to participate, not to entertain.”

Melissa tried to intervene, a polite but patronizing tone in her voice. “Rose, you should smile more. It’s just a dress.”

I tilted my head slightly, keeping my voice calm. “Smiling doesn’t erase disrespect.”

Anna’s mouth opened as if to say something, but I spoke before she could. “If this is meant to belittle me, it isn’t working.”

Melissa’s jaw tightened. “We’re just trying to help you feel welcome.”

I shook my head. “You can’t make me welcome here. I am present, yes. I participate, yes. But I will not be made to feel small for existing in this space.”

Anna’s fingers lingered on a sequined gown, her confidence slipping. She tried again, softly this time. “I suppose you could try to loosen up…”

“I’m not here to loosen up,” I said, voice quiet but sharp. “I’m here to function in a world you’ve already claimed as yours. That doesn’t require bending myself to your amusement.”

Melissa’s smile returned, thin and brittle. “You’re very serious, Rose. Perhaps too serious.”

“And you,” I said calmly, “are very careless with words you think are clever.”

Hours passed in this rhythm. Anna made jokes meant to annoy. Melissa tried to guide the conversation, each comment feeling like an attempt to put me in my place. But I responded with measured words, not anger, not apology, not fear.

“You should try this one,” Anna said finally, holding up a gown. “It’ll make you look… approachable.”

I took the gown, studying it. “I don’t need to look approachable for your approval. I am here to participate, not to entertain anyone’s sense of comfort.”

Melissa glanced at her daughter, trying to maintain control. “Anna, you don’t need to antagonize her. She’s part of the family now.”

Anna’s frown deepened. “I’m just stating the obvious. We can’t all get along.”

“Obvious doesn’t make it right,” I said, keeping my voice level. “And your opinion doesn’t grant you the right to belittle me.”

Melissa tried again, voice coaxing, almost sweet. “Rose, you really should take some advice. Be more generous, more kind. It’s important for marriage.”

I looked at her, calm and cold. “That’s rich, coming from someone who has spent years as a mistress and brought a child into the world outside of marriage. If all this wisdom is so valuable, why wasn’t it applied to your own life instead of interfering with mine?”

A hush fell over the boutique. A few of the assistants exchanged glances, unsure how to react. Anna stared at me, caught between surprise and anger. Melissa’s composure cracked for a fraction of a second before she blinked and smiled again, brittle.

By the end of the afternoon, the gowns were chosen, but the atmosphere had changed. They no longer felt confident in pushing me around. I had asserted myself through my words and my posture, making it clear that I would not be dismissed.

Even the small details, the way I handled the fabrics, the way I responded to comments, the way I chose what to try on, showed them that my presence wasn’t something to be ignored or toyed with.

Anna didn’t speak another cutting word after my final retort. Melissa’s occasional attempts to guide me were polite and cautious, clearly measured now.

In the car, the ride back was quiet. Anna was sulking, glancing out the window. Melissa didn’t speak, her hands folded in her lap, tight and controlled. My father sat beside me, looking straight ahead. I kept my voice calm when I spoke.

“I participated. The gowns are selected. That’s all that mattered today,” I said.

No one responded. I let the silence linger. The point had been made. I didn’t need their approval, their comfort, or their validation. I had my voice. I had my stance. That was enough.

Back in my room later that evening, I placed the dresses carefully on the bed. Each one represented the intersection of their world and mine, a world I hadn’t chosen, but a world I would navigate with precision.

I didn’t dwell on being wronged or sidelined. I had been aware of it the whole day, how they acted as if I were in the way, how Anna tried to belittle me, how Melissa tested every line of control. But I didn’t let it touch me. I had stood my ground. I had spoken clearly, and they had paused in response.

Acceptance didn’t require surrender. It required awareness and action. I could not change the arrangements, the engagement, or the opinions of my step-family. But I could maintain myself, my dignity, and my sense of who I am.

That night, I closed my eyes, thinking I would face it. And I would do so on my own terms. Their words, their actions, and their disapproval did not define me. I had my voice. I had my strength. And I would not let anyone take it from me.