I think about Melanie. I would love for her to be here, even if this is fake, but that brings up an entirely different issue.

Me: I can't exactly tell my friend I'm getting married but it's fake.

Sebastian: Can she keep her mouth shut?

Me: Confidentiality clause.

Moments pass. He finally replies.

Sebastian: Just tell her in January that you made a mistake and we got it annulled.

I don't respond, debating if I really want Melanie to be a part of this. If I don't, she'll never know what I've done.

He sends another text.

Sebastian: Don't overthink this. It'll be good for you to have a friend here. Just invite her.

Me: She has a husband, a four-year-old son, and a two-year-old daughter.

Sebastian: So? Invite them. There's plenty of room. Plus, it looks odd you have zero friends in attendance.

The debate continues in my head until I decide he's right. Plus, I've never wanted to see my friend so badly before. So I text her.

Me: Hey, girl. I can't talk right now because I'm picking out my wedding dress with Sebastian's family, but we're getting married on Saturday. Can you guys come? I want you to be my maid of honor.

The phone rings. I send it to voicemail. I text again.

Me: I can't talk at the moment.

Melanie: Are you pulling my chain?

Me: No.

Melanie: What is going on, Georgia?

I lie, adding the overwhelming guilt I can't shake.

Me: I'll tell you all about it later, I promise.

Melanie: You don't even know him. How can you be getting married?

Me: I know it seems weird, but it's fine. Can you all attend the wedding? You can come sooner rather than later, and we can hang out. There's plenty of room for you and your entire family to stay.

Melanie: Of course we'll come.

I blink back tears, not realizing how much I need my friend.

Me: Great. Send me your size so I can pick out your bridesmaid gown.

Melanie: Georgia, are you being serious right now?

I toss out more untruths.

Me: Yes, I promise. Everything's good though. I'm happy.

Another moment goes by.

Melanie: You need to call me as soon as you can.

Me: I will, but it might not be until tomorrow. There's a whole day of things going on. Picking out your bridesmaid dress now. Talk to you later. Bye.

I get another message.

Melanie: Georgia!

I don't respond and stick the phone back in my purse. I step into the dress, and because of how low the back is, I can zip it myself. I stand in the mirror, assessing myself, blinking back more tears.

My grammy would've loved this dress. She would be crying, and I would be crying.

This dress is made for somebody who actually loves me.

I need to stop thinking like this. I signed a contract.