0003. CHAPTER THREE
— finding the one
THERE ARE MOMENTS IN EVERY WOMAN'S LIFE THAT THEY LOOK FORWARD TO, ONE OF THOSE FOR HARLOW WAS FINDING THE DRESS. You know the one, the dress that makes your head spin because it's exactly what you've always wanted it to be. For some people, their dress was just a simple outfit they got for a conference, for others, it was the prom dress that swept them off their feet. For Harlow, her dress has always been the one she would get married in. She was sure of it. Something about the white fabric and dress designs had her heart pitter-pattering inside of her chest at a young age — and it hadn't gone away as she got older. In fact, it only got stronger with age. As she got older, she realized just how much time went into planning a wedding. Though she had never been that interested in all the moving parts, she always believed the dress would be a saving grace. Perhaps it was just a romanticized idea like something plucked straight out of a fairytale story told to children. Maybe it was a story her mother told her that she kept close to her heart while growing up. But, Harlow Finley always loved to dream about her future wedding. Her box was full of magazine cut-outs with theme ideas and dress ideas, and anything in-between was enough to show that. The idealization of her future wedding dress made it difficult to find the one. In all of her time of casually looking through dress catalogs (and admittedly, looking through the racks at a few of her friend's dress fittings), Harlow had never found something that piqued her interest. Something that stole the breath straight from her lungs, the dress that made her world start spinning again.
That was, until, she stood in a small store just outside of Gotham. Far enough out that she wouldn't be recognized by anyone, which was exactly what she needed. The engagement ring sat heavily on her finger as she walked through the racks of white and off-white dresses, she stopped every now and then to admire how the diamonds shined under the bright lighting in the bridal boutique. Her mother and Margaret walked behind her, showing her dresses they wanted Harlow to try on. Harlow smiled with each one, nodding her head in agreement to try them on (though she knew it was just to please them both, just by their style, she knew they weren't the one). Something told her this shop was different, or perhaps her outlook was different when it came to dressing shopping this time around. She had a reason for finding the dress. Somewhere to be with a wedding dress. Unlike all of the times before, Harlow Finley needed the wedding dress, and somehow, that made her think more about what her perfect dress would be.
Obviously, she had thought a lot about it before, but now she couldn't help but question what exactly she wanted. Did she want lace? If so, where? And did she want it to be perfectly white or a shade of off-white? Ivory, maybe. Was she interested in having any sort of beading on the dress? Sleeves or no sleeves? Train or no train? Princess-styled skirt or form-fitting? Harlow Finley wasn't sure about any of it anymore. Not when she looked at all of the wedding dresses in front of her and realized that perfect was subjective, it didn't matter what everyone else had told her growing up. How her mother always said she would look best in a mermaid-style gown, or how Margaret always said the prettiest of wedding dresses had lace. She wasn't getting the dress for anyone other than herself, so, why would she go with anything other than what she wanted it to be?
That's when she found the dress, her hand barely brushing over it as she skimmed through the ones near it. She did a double-take, going back to look at the dress fully when she recognized the way her heart flew out of her chest at the mere sight of it. Pulling it off of the rack, she motioned towards it with excitement pouring out of her every seam. Her mother quickly shooed her off into a dressing room, telling her to try it on. And it was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. Not the dress, it didn't have everything she dreamed a dress would have growing up. But the moment itself was what she had been waiting for. The breath was stolen right from her lungs, and her thoughts all went to how the dress was perfect. Straight from the rack, it fit her without any issues (and it would have been okay if it didn't, Harlow was expecting alterations to have to be done) (now? this dress was the one coming home with her and the lack of a need for alterations was not lost on her). This was it, this was the thing that all little girls dreamed about. Walking out of a dressing room with a bright smile on their face, looking at themselves in a mirror to only find and point out the good things. Not any of the insecurities that might plague them for other things.
Harlow let her hands fall against her sides, fingers bringing the fabric between them to rub together. She had stayed inside the dressing room, giving herself a moment to feel comfortable with just the dress. With the moment, allowing herself to experience alone. But a part of her wished she could turn to her best friend and get his reaction, see if it would be the same as him waiting for her to come down for prom. Watching as some light she had never seen before come into his eyes, he was exactly the person she wanted to surprise with something like this. The person that when she closed her eyes at night she thought about walking down the aisle too. The person who she could imagine the tears as they came to his eyes, Harlow had always imagined them being in a world where he couldn't look at her without his eyes shining. With that telltale love crossing past them, something that everyone around them can see and comment on. That's exactly what she dreamed of at night, what she had been dreaming of for years of her life. Ever since she watched his face light up while they were going to prom their senior year.
Walking out of the dressing room and to the small, secluded area of the store with mirrors to help the family see it better as well as the soon-to-be bride, Harlow couldn't help but smile as the world had never done her wrong. It had, plenty of times, but sometimes when things like this happened, it's almost like it was making up for it. Apologizing for it. Her mother let out a small gasp, Margaret following suit as they both took in the dress. Her mother went to speak quickly, "Tell me this is it, it looks like it's it."
Harlow couldn't help the smile that graced her features at her mother's words, hands going down to rustle the silk fabric with the tool underneath the skirt. Her hips swung slightly with the movement, almost as if she were testing the dress for the dancing she was obviously going to partake in. Looking back up in the mirror, Harlow took a moment to take in the sight. The way that the neckline of the dress plunged down her chest, or the small lace straps that crossed in the back. Or, she contorted her body to look at the back and see the keyhole back style. It was simple, decorated with a few pieces of lace strategically placed, and otherwise just made of the silk fabric that made Harlow feel comfortable. She wasn't sure what she expected it to feel like finding the dress. But it felt good. Relieving. Like a weight had been taken directly off of her shoulders. Because at least she had one part of it done. She had one thing for this makeshift wedding to her childhood best friend her heart desperately craved to be loved by that she wanted. A dress that made her smile float — like a feather, light and airy, as if all of her worries were melted away. Having the dress meant she didn't have to worry as much about some of the smaller things, but she still had that nagging feeling tugging at her heartstrings. Was this really worth it? Putting her all into finding a dress for a marriage that wasn't real? Harlow Finley knew this was it for her, the media would have a hay day if she got divorced. The thought of divorcing Bruce and moving on, at a time when her father wouldn't be there to walk her down the aisle, wasn't something she wanted to do.
She couldn't help but wonder, was she doing the right thing? Trapping Bruce in a marriage, no matter how willing and understanding he may have been, after being so disconnected from him. It didn't seem fair to him, he could agree to it all he wanted, yet Harlow couldn't help but feel that she lured him into it. That she planted the idea and then sunk her claws into him before he even had a chance. He's one of Gotham's most eligible bachelors for fucks sake, how were they going to take it when the news hit in just a few hours. When she returned to Gotham City with a ring that was all too familiar (every page of every Gotham magazine had seen that very ring when Thomas and Martha had been engaged) while carrying a wedding dress. Harlow knew her bubble was going to burst in just a few brief hours, so was Bruce's. It wasn't fair to him — it couldn't have been. She had half the sense to take off the ring now, back out of it before she could bring Bruce down completely. The other part of her, however, had her heart scream at the thought. This was it, for her. Somewhere, deep down, Harlow Finley had always been in love with Bruce. So far down that she couldn't even think of a time when it hadn't been there. She knew it was there when they went to prom together, Harlow couldn't think about that night without the butterflies forming in her stomach. She felt as though it went farther back, way before their high school started but after they were in middle school.
Her mother sighed, pulling the girl from her thoughts. Grounding her back to the present she was slowly losing herself from, "This one's it, mom. I know it."
"It fits like a glove," Margaret smiled happily at that fact, reaching out to grab at the blonde's hand. Harlow took a few steps forward, smiling brighter at the woman who helped to raise her, "You look stunning, that smile on your face says it all."
Harlow fought back the thoughts that were plaguing her mind, every idea of this being wrong to take in the moment. Her mother and the woman who was practically a second mother to her agreeing about the dress that had captured her heart the minute she put it on. It should have been the moment for her. Something she would go home and write about, yet the thoughts that were following her everywhere made it hard to do so. Harlow let out a soft sigh, "I'll head in and take it off if you guys want to get the associate."
"What about shoes?" Harlow turned to her mother with a lifted brow. "What? It's a genuine question."
"I know that this is a weird situation when it comes to a wedding," Harlow shrugged, smiling at her mother as she went into the dressing room to change out of it, "but, I'm a sucker for the traditions."
"So?"
"So, you and I are the same shoe size. And you still have the pair of heels from your wedding, something old and something borrowed," Harlow let the vague (not so vague, everyone there knew what she was hinting) statement sit as she closed the door to the dressing room to change back into her clothing. She heard muffled whispers coming from her mother and Margaret, something she was keen on hearing when she came back out. It felt weird to be going back out in something that wasn't a wedding dress — like it was weird to be wearing her t-shirt and jeans when moments ago that's what she was begging to be back in. Her mother had a gloss in her eyes, tears that were being held back by the straps of her strength, "What? Is something wrong?"
Her mother shook her head quickly, easing Harlow's worries, "No, no, not at all. I'm just, so very lucky to have you as a daughter. Did you know that?"
"Because I want to wear your custom Valentino wedding shoes for my wedding?" Harlow raised a brow and crossed her arms against her chest. "Who wouldn't ask for that? Those shoes are absolutely stunning."
"She is right about that, Master Finley."
"I meant, I'm lucky to have a daughter who cares this much about the things she does. A daughter who puts her all into everything she's ever done. You always have. From dance when you were a toddler to school to this. I couldn't have made you any better if I had wanted to do so."
"Mom," Harlow felt her heartstring get tugged, tears forming against her water line as she looked at her mother. "Let's just uh, get out of here. Get the dress, get back to Gotham, and let the press do the rest."
Margaret stood up with a small grunt, taking the dress out of her hands. She smiled slightly, patting the young doctor on the arm before bringing it up to the counter. Her mother followed soon after, card in her hand ready to pay whatever price popped up and more. Harlow knew that the money wasn't a problem — it never had been — but she also knew she wasn't comfortable with spending an arm and a leg on a dress. Her mother would have done anything to see her happy, bend over backward to buy a dress that make her heart sing. Harlow also knew she would do the same thing for different people, but for herself. Not when she knew the reasons behind this wedding. It wasn't like she was marrying the man who had been hopelessly devoted to her, she wasn't feeding into the fairytales that children looked at with wide eyes. Another pang of guilt rushed through her, the children of Gotham were going to fall in love with their story. The one they came up with for when the media eventually asks about it — a how and why for their coming together, the background that led to what would be the wedding of the year (if not the decade). She knew Gotham was going to eat their story up, they had always thought they were together. Even when they hadn't publicly been seen together in years, there was always part of some rumor about a relationship. Something both Bruce and Harlow had learned to tune out, but now it was something they were feeding into.
Harlow could see the headlines now, 'BRUCE WAYNE AND HARLOW FINLEY, MORE THAN FRIENDS!', she could see the people of Gotham gossiping. The very same people she grew up around, the ones who would whisper to their friends as she walked past. Elites who wanted to be her, who wanted her money and her power, but they never wanted to know her. Not really, not like most people do when they make friends. No, Harlow could see it now. How they would be conspiring amongst themselves to get closer to her, to buddy up real close. To try and get a whiff of the smell that comes from the marriage of Gotham's two most elite families. Families who have held the economy of Gotham in a chokehold, not just the Gotham economy either. Wayne Enterprises and Finley Incorporated were well established throughout the world, as many multibillion-dollar companies are. Harlow swallowed the lump that grew in her throat, fear bobbing its way through her body. Clawing up and out of any place it can attach itself to, festering and growing in any environment it could. That's what terrified her, she couldn't do anything to run from it. It was coming from right there inside of her, the fear. No matter where she ran, or what she did, it would never be enough.
It always came back worse than it had been before.
"Harlow?" The blonde perked up at the sound of her name, eyes widening slightly as she fought off the swarm of thoughts. Margaret gave her a slight frown, eyesight falling over the young doctor's body. If there were to be one person who understood her more than anyone else, it would have been Margaret, she was there for everything. She had watched the youngest woman out of the three grow up from before she was even born to where she was now. That came with knowing her like the back of her very own hand — Harlow was like an open book that she had seen plenty of times before. Words on a page that she could breeze through, something that was second-hand nature by this point, something she didn't even need. Margaret knew long before Harlow's physical cues were shown that she wasn't okay, all it took was one look into her eyes and she saw the thoughts swimming behind them. The fear and anxiety that she had grew within her as if she were the perfect mixed media for a culture to grow. An isolated colony of every fear, every single piece of doubt, anything she could ever think about ready to move across her body. "You ready?"
She wanted to say no, her body screamed to stay put and not move forward, but she knew that wasn't what they were expecting of her, "Yeah, of course, I am."
The associate gave them a soft smile as they walked towards the door with the dress in hand, "Congratulations Doctor Finley, it's a gorgeous dress."
Turning her head to look over her shoulder, Harlow gave a soft smile in response. (She felt sick to her stomach). Her hand clutched at the satin that covered the dress, "Thank you."
Harlow back out to the door, something overcoming her as she stepped foot outside. Thankful to have the sun hit her skin, she let out a soft sigh, breathing in the fresh air. These were the last few moments of freedom she was bound to have — a terrifying thought, really. In just an hour (or less) the press was going to catch wind of everything, her life was going to change again. And despite being in the sun for what felt like the first time in forever, something that used to bring her relief when she needed it most, Harlow felt her emotions bubble up past the barriers she had so carefully built. Tears cascaded past the barriers, like a river breaking past a dam that couldn't bear its weight. She knew it was ridiculous, crying in this kind of way. There was nothing she could do about it now, Bruce had agreed, she had a dress, and they had a venue. They had everything planned out and in two weeks they would be legally married. Yet, she couldn't even find the words to tell her best friend (nearly husband) that she was in love with him. That the exact things she was going to say in their wedding ceremony just so happened to be the truth. The vows she's poured her heart into are the truth, something so real and true, she just so happened to be hiding it all along. It was almost too much for her to think about, too overwhelming. Like reading through an old diary from a time someone tried to forget about, one packed full of memories that people tried to attach to something else. Every single time Harlow thought about it, she thought about another time she could have said something. How she could have admitted her feelings to him while they were in high school? Would it have made anything different? If she had just admitted to herself that she was in love with him, would it have saved her and others from pain? Harlow felt like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode, full of hidden secrets that couldn't be kept for much longer. Not if she's going to be living with Bruce full-time.
There's only so much that can be hidden from someone, especially when they're in the room right next door.
Harlow tugged at the diamond ring that sat on her finger, something she had dreamed about before. A ring she had always pictured wearing, under extremely different circumstances. It was almost sacrilegious (if she believed in such a thing), to wear the ring under these conditions. This wasn't how Harlow expect to be getting married, especially not to Bruce Wayne. This ring symbolized everything she had ever believed about love — it was the epitome of what she expected love to be like. Someone who cared about her enough to gift her something that they cherished. Someone like Bruce, who didn't think twice about using his deceased mother's engagement ring for their sham of a wedding. Who didn't think twice about the ring because it was always hers — even if she didn't know it. Bruce Wayne didn't question it when Harlow asked to marry him. in fact, he bent over backward to accommodate her. To give her everything she wanted out of it, Harlow thought again about how she had to be abusing their friendship. This was too heavy of an ask. To be moving into the tower with him after, changing their entire lives just for what? So she could get one memory with her father of something that isn't even real? A marriage between two people who don't love each other, at least not in the way that a marriage should be happening. Harlow Verity Finley may just have been head over heels in love with Bruce, but he didn't feel the same way. He never had. And she was just taking advantage of the fact that he was a good friend to her, someone who cared about her.
Good things only happen to those who deserve it and Harlow didn't think she was one of the ones who did. Sure, she had done good things in her job. And sure, she was trying to be a better person. But God only knows the things she had to do to get there. The things she had to do, the things within her she had to kill. This type of thing shouldn't have been happening to her. She shouldn't have a best friend who would do this kind of thing without a second thought, he didn't deserve to get sucked into her world of darkness. It was an entirely different world, full of things she had yet to explore out of fear of them herself. But, she was just getting her footing on this whole life thing. Her life turned upside down as she came back to Gotham unexpectedly, changing her residency, and moving back to a place she was intent on never returning to. Harlow Finley had ruined plenty of good things in her life out of pure fear that she would never be able to do anything with them — can't lose something if you don't have it, right? At least, that was Harlow's thought process behind it. If she cut out the things she was attached to first, it would hurt less. That's why she never second-guessed Bruce falling off the face of the earth when she was at school, it saved her the pain of having to do it herself, but it opened up the book for a whole world of pain she had never felt. She had never been on the receiving end of the things she happened to be doing for years.
A rude awakening that things were not going the way she wanted them to go.
Harlow was startled back into reality by a cold hand cupping her cheek, blue eyes boring into her own, "Harlow?"
Grasping the wrist connected to the hand that was touching her face, Harlow let the tears tumble past again. Rolling down her cheeks without fail, falling until they hit the front of her shirt and leaving a dark gray stain on the front of it. Her mother had stepped closer, her other arm snaking its way across her back. Harlow felt herself melt into her mother's touch, into the hug she was being brought into. Molded like chocolate on a strawberry given to someone on Valentine's Day, Harlow let a deep sigh break through the barrier of her lips. Her mother placed a chaste kiss against her hairline, the same way she had when she was just a child. Another source of comfort that Harlow couldn't help but second-guess, did she deserve her mother doing this to her. Did she deserve the affection they were oh-so-willingly sharing with her? That isolated colony full of her fears and doubts screamed that she wasn't — she didn't deserve anything good. Not with the thing she could do. It didn't matter if she ignored them, it didn't matter if she didn't use them.
She couldn't help but second-guess everything anyone did for her anymore. Did Bruce choose to say yes, was it a willing and conscious decision on his part? Harlow was fairly certain it was, but at the same time, she had that crumb of self-doubt that screamed there was something else involved. There was that part of her that knew she could always get whatever she wanted, even without her trying to do so. It was easy to get people to follow along to her words, to string them along and have them hanging off of her every syllable. And she had always kept that part of her locked away when it came to Bruce and her parents, she never wanted it to be something she worried over. But now she couldn't help but worry over it — did that one little gene pull at the thing within her she tried her best to ignore. Did her grief, her emotions, overpower her capability of keeping it hidden? Was Bruce being a good friend or was he just lured into her trap, only saying yes because her powers had weaved their way into his mind?
"Harlow, honey," Her mother sighed, pulling her daughter into a bone crushing hug. Harlow's body sighed, arms tightening around her mother to keep herself grounded. Thinking her daughter was grieving her father, emotions hitting her all at once in a way she couldn't quite explain, Alice ran her fingers through Harlow's hair. Alice shared a look with Margaret, extending her hand with the car keys out to her. Without a second thought, Margaret grabbed the keys and left a fleeting touch to the top of Harlow's shoulder before going to grab the car from the parking garage. Alice turned back to her daughter, placing a chaste kiss to her hairline, "I know, I know."
Harlow let out a soft whine, her mother didn't know — she couldn't.
Alice ended up cradling Harlow's head, not much different from how she used to when she was just a baby. Harlow's breath caught in her throat as her mother spoke again, "I can't imagine how this must be for you, losing your father in this way. It's killing me, but it's different because he's my husband. He's your father and you're watching him slowly lose his grip on life. It's okay to let yourself feel this."
Except this wasn't what she was feeling at all. She hadn't even started to grieve her father, she wanted to cherish the time he had left and not be grieving a death that was going to happen. This was all her own mind overthinking, overworking itself until it finally snapped and suddenly she couldn't have a rational argument to respond with. No grief had gone through her yet, not in the way her mother was trying to make her feel better about. Harlow tried to control her emotions, keep them in check as she pulled away from her mother. For being someone who had gotten to be amazing at putting on a stoic mask, void of any and all emotions, she sure did have a hard time pretending now. With her throat closing up as she tried to speak, a small whine mixed together with a sob left her. There was no hiding this — she was breaking down in front of the people who she tried to keep this away from. Her mother had enough to deal with, she never wanted to add herself onto that list. Harlow didn't want to be another box on her checklist to look over — a big red X that shows she wasn't doing any better. It was easier to conceal feeling anything from her mother than allow her to worry for even a fleeting moment.
Except her mother never held onto something for short periods of time. Moments were never fleeting. They continued on and on until her mother was sure that nothing was happening. Harlow found that out the hard way — struggling to deal with her mother when she and Hal broke up. A mutual thing, that fact apparently eluded her mother, and Harlow held no ill will towards him. Yet, her mother had it wrapped around her mind that she was struggling. Back then, Harlow tried to argue it. Tried to explain that it wasn't a bad break up, that that wasn't anything that was bothering her. She wasn't bothered by the idea or the fact that they had broken up. Sure, she had missed him. And sure, she was sad. But it wasn't something that sent her spiraling, not in the way her mother tried to explain to anyone who could listen. This time, however? Harlow would rather her mother give her version for the story — tell everyone that the tears spilled today were from grief that she had been bottling away for everyone else's sake. That she was handling her fathers soon-to-be death with grace, or as much of it as she can have.
Because that's all it had to be. It didn't have to be that she was crying (no, sobbing was a better fit for what was happening) over who she was marrying and the circumstances behind the said marriage. That wasn't the reason at all, she had no doubts that what she was doing the right thing.
She wasn't worried or stressed about it at all.
AUTHORS NOTE
famous last words huh? (she was, in fact, stressed and worried over it)
Anyhow, I'm posting this as my last update for 2023!!
My updates have been sporadic and random, but as I review the things I've completed this year, I would love to note that updating was not of my utmost importance or priority. Yes, I plan on continuing my stories (I plan on focusing on a sinners song, TSOS, SBS, and records going into the new year), but there were many things I did over 2023 that allowed me lots of personal growth. That means I spent a lot of time trying to self-reflect and give myself time to heal and grow (both from the things that have happened on Wattpad and in my personal life). I also spent 2023 as a full-time college student, navigating my continuing education plans and everything in between. As a recent college graduate (Bachelor of Science in animal and veterinary sciences with a minor in biological sciences), I can officially say my hard work paid off, and I have applied to graduate schools (still waiting to hear back) and will be taking the MCAT this April for my plans on applying to medical school this summer. I am also beginning my onboarding process for my full-time job, which I will have during my semester off before graduate school. Overall, 2023 gave me a lot of new memories to hold close to my heart and many things I've learned!!
Hope you guys enjoy this update!!