Dear second fiancé

CHAPTER 2. story untold

''Did he mistake the location? This can't be it..'' Lydia kept reading the text over and over. Making sure she saw it right. However, no matter what shenanigans the father possibly had in mind this time — people working a regular nine-to-five wouldn't usually dare to spend their hard-earned money on a simple dinner as such, especially not someone like her very down to earth father who owned a family farm several hours away, in a small town, making his income mostly with cornfields. But no matter how many times she read it from start to finish, the invitation wouldn't obviously change.

Although the little tricks he occasionally pulled were nothing new. One time in middle school, they held one of those spring festivals where the towns people and students with their families would set up booths and sell items, snacks and other fun stuff such as face painting and raffles. Lydia's father, however, rolled down to the school yard in a whole food truck with the picture of her smiling face whacked on the side of it — oh the excited proud face of his compared to her own completely mortified, resulting into the two bickering on the side almost comically. Or that one time when he called the whole entire town once she had straight A's from the final tests in high school, resulting into every auntie stopping to congratulate her while walking through the market street. He was that one father cheering on his daughter the loudest in the crowd at a sports festival — the one to do these sort of things on his own. As a teenager Lydia found herself often embarrassed, yet felt his good intentions wholeheartedly.

Thinking back now, those memories would always bring a smile to her face — though rudely interrupted as Lydia felt her phone buzz yet again, this time not coming as a surprise anymore because of one less desirable person. She quietly placed the phone screen facing the kitchen counter and left it there.

''How long is he going to bother..'' Lydia went by the coffee machine and wiped the side of it with a clean rag. She made it clear to her ex-fiancé from the moment they split that there would be no interest whatsoever to rekindle any conversation. Actually, Lydia couldn't even understand exactly what it was that he so desperately wanted from her to begin with.

It's easy to learn things in hindsight. The extra hours spend at work, yet still he struggled to pay the bills, asking Lydia to pay more even though they earned almost the same amount. The frequent birthdays and other celebrations of his friends that he had to attend to, and the remarks of oh you don't have to come, it's just us guys, you'd get bored in just minutes.

''Had I become too comfortable? Now that I think about it, was I even happy?'' Lydia's expression went hazy. Her mind beginning to dwell when the tiny bell on top of the door jingled, welcoming the customer with its lovely cheerful sound, dispelling away the needless thoughts.

Lydia opened the sliding door of her closet and got on a stool to reach up towards something on the top shelf. Tiptoeing and reaching higher, she finally managed to pull out the light pink box.

''Well, I did buy this for the special occasions which are rare..'' Lydia opened the lid and saw the neatly folded black dress with see-through mesh on top of the thick high quality cotton material. The top reminded a well fitted corset, and the long see-through mesh balloon sleeves flowed effortlessly, made special with the movement of the fabric. The waist had a black leather belt with a golden belt buckle, and from the hips the hem fell down wider reaching the calfs. Simple yet classy enough for any event. Lydia had bought the dress as her one and only, the local shop being a small boutique owned by a seamstress who supported local business's and the art of handmade, recycled fashion. Values which Lydia appreciated herself.

Up until now, Lydia had worn the piece of art only once in Millie's and Matthew's wedding, with golden accessories to brighten up the look. She wouldn't lie, having an opportunity to wear it again brought up the fun warm fuzzies.