A Dangerous Passion (COMPLETED)

Chapter 37

Skylar's POV

"Let's get this party started, hey?!" Nina pops open a bottle of champagne as the worker begins rolling the rack of dress in front of me. "Don't worry," she adds and picks up another bottle off the cart of drinks that was just hauled in. "I got some sparkling apple cider for the bride!"

I don't even bother hiding my smile. She hands me a glass of the juice and I take a small sip before I set it down. Hmm, I might actually prefer this over a glass of champagne.

"So, Dear," the worker says, who's name seems to be Linda by the look of her name tag. "What kinda style of dress were ya lookin' for?"

I shrug and run my hand longingly over the bagged dresses. "Not too sure. All I know is that it needs to be nothing that shows me off too much."

Nina over exaggerates a gasp. "What do you mean 'too much'? Girl, you had better show off that rocking 'bod; pregnant or not you're still beautiful and deserve whatever dress you want!"

Wow, that's the first time I heard another woman compliment me on my appearance since my family was alive. Didn't realize there was women who didn't only think of themselves in this place.

"Umm, thanks," I reply as the awkward person I am. I turn back to the rack and start searching again. There's so many to choose from I don't even know where the hell to start!

The racks plastic covers beside me ruffles while I examine another dress. "Oooh, what about this one, Sky?" Nina holds up a long-trained dress decorated with flowers and a low-cut chest that glitters when shown the right way.

"Excellent choice, Ms. Volkov. I'll get a dressing room ready for our bride!" The worker attains the dress from Nina and rushes off to the other worker who has set up privacy walls on the other side of all the dresses.

I pick up my 'champagne' and sip from it slowly as I make my way over to the room with Nina strutting behind me with yet another gown. I'm starting to think Nina's much more excited about dress shopping than I am. Too bad this isn't for her, she'd look much better in all these dresses than what I will with my baby belly and other things that'll make it look bad.

When I enter the changing room I set my glass on a small table and begin stripping to my underwear. After, I throw on a soft, white robe and wait for Linda to come with the dress I'm scared I'll rip apart.

I'm hoping they'll be able to alter in such a way so I don't make an embarrassment of my self in front of these people. The people at this wedding will get their first impression of me when I walk dreadfully down that aisle, so the dress needs to actually compliment me and show that I'm in fact, a worthy woman of this child and man. If not, there's a chance I'll never even hold, let alone see my own baby.

"Coming in!" Linda chimes and I awake from my thoughts.

Guess it's time to lose my dignity! Yay....

~~~

A long few hours later...

Finally, after a whole bottle of sparkling apple cider, two bottles of actual champagne and one too many dresses, I finally make a decision.

It's a long-trained, silky white dress with a low-cut top of lace flowers and shoulder straps. The train and bottom part are just as beautiful as the top, so much so, I'm not sure how I'm only going to be able to wear it once in my life.

I twirl happily around on the little podium set up in front of a mirror. "This is it. This one is the one!" I turn back towards the girls and they all smile up at me with their glasses raised to a toast. I take what's left of my apple cider and raise it too.

"To my sister-in-law!" Nina exclaims, her words starting to slur from all the alcohol.

Without a care in the world, I say it too. "To me!" And we all clink our glass and cheer a little too loudly.

Once we've downed the remains of our glasses, I change back into my normal clothing and we head out of the dining room and into the foyer. My dress is delivered to my room, too for tomorrow: the day that makes my heart skip a beat every time I think of it, and not really the good kind either.

Nina hugs me goodbye before she leaves and I head back up to my room in exhaustion. When I arrive, I notice a familiar guard standing at the door of my room.

Ah, yes. The one who tried to degrade me every chance he got. How could I forget such a man?

When I approach the door, he says, "I've been instructed by Mr. Volkov to be posted here until he arrives tonight. I will not bother you unless there is a problem, ma'am."

I scrunch my face together in confusion from the sudden respect he is giving me. "Why are you being nice to me now? Just a few weeks ago you wanted me to suffocate in my own waste."

"Not my place to say, ma'am," he replies in a robot voice that he's most likely using for me to leave.

Ignoring the prick outside my room, I head inside and flop down on my bed and pick up the phone on the bedside table. I call the kitchen and have them make and deliver my dinner since all I want to do is lie in bed and eat food. And also have a gazillion anxiety attacks about tomorrow.

As my thoughts of the wedding begin to bubble up about tomorrow, I decide to go change into my pyjamas since comfort is the best medicine, in my opinion. I choose a nice flannel set to keep me warm throughout the night and hopefully comfy enough that I don't suddenly get irritated and start tossing and turning like a moron in the middle of the night.

"Dinner, Miss!" I hear a man's voice call from outside.

I rush out of my closet and up to the door, excited for the food I've ordered. Spaghetti and meatballs, to be exact.

When I open the door, I expect it to be some chef from the kitchen that decided to bring it up himself. Instead, I see the gentle, old grey eyes of Philip staring back at me with a grin on his face. "Hungry?" he asks, his smile so big now I can see happy tears springing in his eyes.

Without an answer, I wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly as though he's a caring, loving father I haven't seen in ages. He chuckles and gives me a gentle squeeze back before pulling away.

"How are you?" I question and study his face carefully. From the short time he's been here, it looks as though he's aged five years. There's deep lines in his pale skin from either frowning or smiling too much and some lay atop his forehead most likely from furrowing his dark, bushy eyebrows together.

Philip sighs heavily and his shoulders sag a bit at the question. "Not great, Skylar. It's been especially hard to do my duties and take care of Macy in this place." He glances at his watch, then says, "She's been fading quicker from being here. Last night, she forgot who I was for awhile."

I purse my lips together and sigh deeply, too. It won't be long until she's gone at this rate. Her dying will rip Philip to pieces and maybe even me. In the little time I've known her, she's the closest to a mother-figure I've had in a decade.

Philip notices he's brought down the mood and instead of staring aimlessly at the ground, he immediately perks up. "Macy and I got front-row seats for tomorrow! We're so excited to see how beautiful you'll look in the dress you picked." he pauses and smirks at what he just said. "It was Macy who said that about the dress. I had completely forgotten that the dress was such a big deal to you women."

We both laugh and when we quiet down, I reply with, "Im so glad you two are coming. I'm really not sure how I'd be forced to walk down the aisle with no one I knew other than the groom. You've really made my day and tomorrow, a whole lot better."

Philip hugs me again. "We gladly do it, Dear. Now," he turns toward the cart of food he's brought and rolls it into the room. "Eat up and get some rest. you'll need it for tomorrow!" and then we both wave and he's gone again.

That night I lay in bed with my belly full of good food and restless with only one thing on my mind:

What is going to happen after we get married?