“Before you react,” he said, “just remember—it’s not perfect.”
I barely heard him.
When he unzipped the bag, I froze.
The dress was stunning—soft ivory fabric, delicate blue flowers, and hand-sewn details that made it feel alive.
It was my mom’s wedding dress… transformed.
“Your mom would’ve wanted to be there,” he said quietly. “I couldn’t give you that… but I thought maybe I could give you this.”
That’s when I broke down crying.
On prom night, I walked in feeling different—not richer, not changed—but whole, like I carried both my parents with me.
For a moment, I felt beautiful.
Then Mrs. Tilmot approached.
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