Penelope Davis, a beautiful and innocent girl, was born and raised in a wealthy family. She had everything-caring parents and a supportive sister-except for the love of the man she adored. She believed she had him, until the day she discovered he ha...
I was zipping up my duffle bag when I heard the soft creak of my bedroom door opening. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Sophie step inside, her eyes already scanning my half-packed room.
"Are you all set for leaving?" she asked, leaning casually against the doorframe, her familiar smile warming me from the inside out.
I nodded. “Yeah, just finishing up.” Sophie walked in, her presence so effortlessly comforting, as if she belonged there in the middle of my chaos. She reached out and gently tugged at the zipper on my bag, a playful glint in her eyes.
“You know, it feels like you just got here, and now you're off again,” she teased before her expression shifted, something more serious surfacing beneath her lighthearted tone. “Do you remember what you promised me when we were kids?”
Her words caught me off guard, and I blinked at her, confused. "Promised?" I racked my brain, but I couldn’t recall what she was talking about.
Sophie’s lips curved into a soft chuckle as she shook her head. “You really don’t remember, do you? We promised each other we’d choose each other’s wedding dresses. You know, that day we were playing dress-up with Mom’s old scarves.”
Suddenly, the memory came rushing back—two little girls draped in mismatched fabrics, spinning around in our bedroom, declaring that no one else could be trusted with something as important as our wedding dresses. It felt like another lifetime, and for a moment, I was lost in the memory.
“I can’t believe you remember that,” I said, a laugh escaping me, though there was a bittersweet edge to it.
“Of course I do,” Sophie replied softly. “And since the wedding’s just a few days away… I need you to come with me to choose my dress. After you get back from Milan, of course.”
Her words hit me like a soft wave of nostalgia. The wedding. Her wedding. It was so close now, and here we were, all grown up, standing on the edge of everything we used to dream about as kids. Time had passed so quickly, and yet it felt like we were still those two little girls in so many ways. But this—Sophie’s wedding—it was real.
“I’d love that,” I said, my voice catching slightly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” We stood there for a moment, both of us caught up in the swirl of memories and the weight of how fast life had moved. I let out a small breath, trying to shake the emotion. There was a lot I hadn’t allowed myself to think about in the rush of everything, but Sophie’s wedding... it grounded me. Reminded me of what really mattered.
I turned back to the mirror, giving myself a final look. I was dressed simply enough for travel—a white corset top that hugged my frame and a pair of loose beige pants that felt comfortable yet presentable. My hair fell in soft waves around my shoulders, and I adjusted the strap of my shoulder handbag, ensuring everything looked in place. It was just a trip to Milan, but something about today felt heavier than the usual work trips.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
