My Last Gift Was Their Wedding

In the comments under one of those "I dare you" viral video challenges, I saw the screenshots of a chat between my best friend and my fiancé.

My best friend had asked Joseph Henson: "Do you dare tell Bess Sullivan that we slept together?"

Joseph had replied: "No."

Her caption read: Coward. Honestly, I don't dare either. Bess has been my closest friend since we were kids. She matters more to me than you do.

The comment section was tearing into the two of them, indignant on my behalf.

But none of them knew the truth. I was the one who owed my best friend and Joseph.

Joseph had stabbed a man to protect me. He went to prison for it, and that ended any hope he'd ever had of the government career he dreamed of.

For my sake, my best friend had been assaulted, beaten until she lost the hearing in one ear, and she still woke screaming from nightmares in the dead of night.

I gripped the report in my hand, the one that said terminal cancer, and let myself smile, finally at peace, as I called her. "Could you come out and try on a wedding gown with me?"

There was nothing else left for me to give them. All I could repay them with was a wedding.

——

When Josephine Morton arrived, I was in the middle of picking a gown.

A satin mermaid dress, scattered with pearls, the elegant, refined style she loved.

She looked at me, puzzled. "Don't you like the heavily embellished gowns with long trains?"

"I felt like trying something different." I smiled softly.

She didn't notice how pale my face was. Her eyes were fixed on the gown, unblinking.

Before that thing happened, she used to dream up her own wedding with me all the time.

She'd said she wanted to walk down the aisle in a satin mermaid gown, with champagne roses spread across the whole ceremony.

Josephine. I remembered every word.

I took her cold hand in mine. "Will you try it on for me? Please?"

Josephine flinched, as if the warmth of my palm had burned her. "I can't do that. A wedding gown is sacred, I—"

"But I'm a little tired! Help me out." I buried my face against the curve of her neck the way I used to when I wanted something.

Only then did Josephine nod and agree. She'd always doted on me.

She slipped into the gown without a hint of suspicion. In front of the huge floor-length mirror, her eyes sparkled like a little girl who'd just been handed a treasure.

Then, all at once, her eyes went red.

She turned away to wipe at them, fighting to swallow the catch in her voice. "Will you wear this to marry Joseph?"

I nodded. "Yes."

Her voice was trembling now. "Then let me be the first to wish you a happy marriage, Bess."

I lowered my head and said nothing. Then a furious shout cut through the room. "What do you two think you're doing?"

I turned. It was Joseph. I started to speak.

Without a word, Joseph grabbed my wrist and dragged me toward the dressing room.

He wasn't paying attention to his own strength. His grip was so hard it felt like he meant to crush the bones in my wrist.

His strides were long, and I struggled to keep up, breathing hard.

His temper seemed to have swallowed him whole. He flung me against the dressing room wall without registering how rough he was.

The pain shook me to my core, every organ trembling, and the tears spilled out before I could stop them.

"Bess, do you have any heart at all? You made Josephine try on your wedding gown, when you know perfectly well that because of you she'll never be able to get married in this life."

My lips were bloodless. I struggled to find my voice, to explain.

Joseph's eyes were red, and he shot me a knife of a glare. "How can you be so heartless, driving a blade straight into her heart?"

No. That wasn't it.

I wanted to explain, but I didn't know what I could say.

Tell him I'd come across Josephine's account, that I knew the two of them had slept together.

Tell him I wasn't trying to hurt her, that I was giving the whole wedding, and him, to her.

Tell him I was about to die.

But all of it lodged in my throat and pressed against my chest, impossible to spit out, impossible to swallow.

Joseph threw out one cold sentence. "You disgust me. I've never been more disappointed in you."