In Love Again’s window display, mannequins wore bright, flowery summer dresses and shorts with tie-dye tank tops. The sign hanging behind the glass of the front door said, “Come in, we’re open!”
A bell jingled cheerfully as she stepped inside. From beyond the racks of clothes came a young woman. As she moved toward Alice, she seemed to skim across the floor like a smooth stone on water, her long black hair swaying gracefully behind her. This must be Esther Lucas, the owner Ona had mentioned.
“That’s a beautiful dress,” Esther said. “Is that a real Vera Wang?”
“No, it’s a knockoff. I could never afford a Vera Wang.”
Esther laughed, and it sounded like summer raindrops on water. “Who could? But my customers would still kill for a dress like this.”
“Personally, I need something a little more practical.”
“Like what?”
“Like anything and everything.”
“You’ve come to the right place.”
Esther put a hand on a hip and cocked her head, studying Alice. “Let me pick out a few things for you.”
While Esther searched the racks, Alice went to check out the footwear section.
A woman in a beige jumpsuit was trying on a pair of white sneakers. Her pre-adolescent daughter sat on a chair reading a graphic novel about a zombie apocalypse. When Alice approached, the girl looked up. She leaned toward her mom and whispered, but it was about as quiet as a stage whisper. Alice heard the words “runaway bride.”
“Shush, sweetie. We don’t talk about that kind of thing.”
The woman gave Alice an apologetic look while the girl scowled. “But daddy was talking about it. He said it was in the news.”
That made Alice freeze.
Oh God, no.
She hurried away from the shoes and nearly collided with Esther.
“This way,” Esther said, leading her to a changing room.
Esther had her changing into a dozen different outfits, commenting on which ones fit her nicely and which ones were “no go,” all the while keeping Alice from looking into the news story the girl had mentioned.
Finally, she’d picked out a whole stack of dresses, pants, shirts, and shorts. It felt great to wear new clothes. She had a pair of jeans, a white tank top, and an open blouse over it. The dirty wedding dress lay in a heap. To her surprise, Esther carried panties and bras, which she also bought several of.
“Yeah, it’s a consignment store, but we’re also Blithedale’s only place for women to buy clothes. So I stock the essentials. Let me bag these items for you. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as Esther left, Alice dug into her clutch and found her phone and unlocked it. The browser took a moment to load The Blithedale Record website. But as soon as the main image appeared, she knew what the girl had been referring to.
The headline read, “Runaway bride witnesses tragic accident.” The photo, which Todd Townsend must have snapped without her realizing, showed her from the back as she walked through the diner, heading for the exit, her voluminous skirts darkened with dirt and dust.
What if Rich saw the article? How long would it take him drive to Blithedale and convince her to come back home? If he had his way, she’d be back at that altar tomorrow.
She shuddered.
Esther returned with two well-packed bags.
“What do you want to do about the wedding dress?” she asked. “Do you want a bag for it?”
Alice stared at the wedding dress. She reached out and touched it, running a hand along the fabric. She ought to feel something about it, but she hadn’t even chosen it. Not really. When she’d gone wedding dress shopping, it hadn’t been with her mom, of course, and since her aunt wasn’t an obvious alternative, Rich had said it would be fun to do it together. She’d agreed.
The wedding cake, the music, the floral arrangements, the party favors, the color of table cloths and napkins, the silverware, the catering—they’d looked at everything together. Rich said it was romantic. She’d agreed.
She’d said yes to everything.
And then they were standing at the altar and the minister said, “Do you, Alice Hartford, take Richard Crawley, to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage?” And she realized that for every yes she’d given Rich, she actually meant no.
Deep down, she’d known she was trapped, yet it took a walk up the aisle of a church for her to finally admit it to herself. She could no longer pretend. She could no longer stay. Not for a single second. Because she knew that if she did, Rich, with his powers of persuasion, would bend her to his will, making her go through with it.
I’ll find you, my love, and I’ll bring you back.
“I’m not going back,” she muttered.
“Not going back where?” Esther asked.
“Never mind,” Alice said. She was still holding the hem of the dress, and now she let go. “You can keep it.”
“Keep it? Are you serious?”
“I don’t ever want to see this dress again.”