CHAPTER 57

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"Please drop me home,"
she said

And he wished for traffic.

It's always so easy for people to say, Oh, Renna, you're so lucky to have it all!

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It's always so easy for people to say, Oh, Renna, you're so lucky to have it all!

But what exactly does "all" mean when you're sitting in the middle of a whirlwind, with three stylists fussing over every strand of your hair, two makeup artists arguing over whether the icy shimmer on your eyelids is "frosty enough," and someone adjusting the golden belt of your birthday dress for what feels like the hundredth time?

It was like being a doll, and I hated it. Not because the attention bothered me, but because Aadam wasn't here. Nothing felt quite right without him.

I stood before the full-length mirror, the gown cascading down my figure like a waterfall of moonlight. The fabric, a pristine white crepe, clung to my silhouette with the elegance of freshly fallen snow.

Bell sleeves, wide and flowing, draped over my arms like the wings of an ice queen, their edges lined with feathery embellishments that shimmered faintly under the chandelier's light. A golden belt cinched my waist, intricately designed with frosted filigree, as if each swirl had been kissed by winter itself.

It was breathtaking, objectively. But as I stared at my reflection, tilting my head to catch the subtle gleam of the dress, I felt... nothing. Well, almost nothing.

What's the point of looking like an ice princess if the one person who makes me feel like royalty isn't here?

My thoughts flickered to Aadam like a moth drawn to a flame. He would've teased me-called me "snow white" or something equally ridiculous-but the way his eyes would've softened, lingering just a bit too long on me, that's what I craved.

I pouted, sinking into the ottoman as a stylist began fastening diamond drop earrings from Harry Winston', that seemed to dance with every slight turn of my head.

The matching necklace-a solitaire choker-was already fastened around my neck. It felt cold against my skin but impossibly light, as though it were an extension of me rather than an accessory.

Mama appeared then, her reflection suddenly joining mine in the mirror. "Stop that pouting, darling," she teased, tugging gently at one of my earrings to ensure it was secured. "I don't care how much you sulk; Aadam isn't going to materialize out of thin air."

"I'm not sulking," I protested, jutting out my bottom lip even more.

She crossed her arms, a mockingly stern expression on her face. "Renna Rose Lancaster, I birthed you. Don't you dare think for a second that I don't know your sulk-face."

I groaned, leaning back in the chair as another staff member adjusted the hem of my gown. "Mama, it's not fair. He's my boyfriend and my..." I trailed off, the word "everything" hanging unspoken between us.

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