Chapter 3The Gown Arrived After My Funeral

Gia held up a trembling hand, waiting for him to help her up.

Harrison reached down, but before his fingers could close around hers, she swatted his hand away with a petulant sniff.

The guys burst out laughing.

"Harrison, pick her up!"

"Yeah, man! You bruised her feelings and her knee. A verbal apology doesn't cut it!"

Harrison shook his head, a wry, exasperated smile touching his lips. He leaned down, scooped Gia up into his arms, and carried her toward the plush velvet sofa.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"Honestly, you two look like you belong in a magazine. Harrison, why don't you just marry Gia and write Audrey a fat severance check?"

"What did you just say?" Harrison’s smile vanished instantly, his eyes turning to ice as he pinned the speaker with a venomous glare.

The guy swallowed hard and clamped his mouth shut.

Gia saw the flash of lethal fury in Harrison's face, and her expression darkened.

Harrison turned back to the salon manager. "Have it ready by seven tomorrow morning. I need it the moment the sun comes up."

"Understood, Mr. Hayes."

Thirty minutes later, the entourage arrived at a private urgent care clinic to have Gia’s bruised elbow inspected.

Across town, on the cold floor of our peeling rental, my phone began to vibrate violently.

The screen lit up: [My Dearest Husband].

It chimed for sixty agonizing seconds, the sound bouncing off the bare walls, before falling silent.

A moment later, it rang again.

And again.

By the fourth unanswered call, Harrison stood in the sterile hospital corridor, staring at his phone with a deepening frown.

"Is she still busy with Sammy?" he muttered to himself.

His thumbs tapped rapidly against the screen:

[Harrison]: Babe, I have an incredible surprise for you and Sammy tomorrow ❤️

[Harrison]: You mentioned your stomach was cramping last week. I pulled some strings and found the top gastro-oncology specialist on the East Coast—the guy has put dozens of severe cases into full remission. Your little gastritis flare-up won't stand a chance.

[Harrison]: I know you're worried about the bills, but your husband has it covered. Don't worry about money ever again, okay?

The messages hung in the ether.

I lay motionless on the blood-spattered mattress, staring blankly at nothing.

Harrison stared at the empty chat window for several minutes, the silence gnawing at his patience. Disappointment shadowed his face. Finally, he pressed the microphone icon and recorded a soft voice memo:

"You’ve carried so much, Audrey. I love you."

"Texting your little saint?" Gia’s voice drawled. She walked over from the triage room, a pristine white bandage pressed against her forearm. "Doesn't look like she cares enough to reply."

"She’s overwhelmed taking care of Sammy."

"Or maybe she’s busy taking care of another man."

"Gia," Harrison snapped, his tone dangerously flat.

Gia crossed her arms, leaning against the wall with a cool smirk. "Don't get defensive. Let me ask you a straight question: what if Audrey already found someone with actual cash, and she’s just biding her time to walk out on you? Would you still marry her?"

Harrison’s fingers unconsciously tightened around his phone until his knuckles went white.

Gia’s smile broadened. "You hesitated."

"Audrey would never do that to me."

"Is that so?" Gia stepped closer, resting a manicured hand lightly on his shoulder. "Then make another bet with me. If she walks out on you tomorrow for another man... you marry me."

Harrison went rigid.

Gia tilted her head, her eyes flashing with challenge. "Afraid to lose?"

"Fine," Harrison replied without hesitation, his voice cold and definitive. "Because you have no idea what Audrey and I share."

"We'll see about that." Gia spun on her heel and strutted down the hall.

Harrison glanced down at the silent phone once more. He exhaled a long breath, but as he pictured the look on Audrey's face when he revealed the truth tomorrow, a faint, tender smile returned to his lips.

Starting tomorrow, Audrey would never have to struggle again.

The next morning, inside the penthouse master suite, Harrison's friends crowded around him, whistling and hooting.

"Look at this handsome bastard!"

"Audrey’s going to faint the second she sees you in Tom Ford!"

"Bro, one look at you in this tux, and she won't even remember to be mad about the lie!"

Harrison adjusted his onyx cufflinks, rolling his eyes with affectionate exasperation. "Will you guys shut up? Audrey is waiting for me."

Crash!

Behind them, Gia stumbled against a mahogany side table, dropping a crystal tumbler that shattered across the rug. She pressed a hand to her temple, groaning weakly.

"Gia? What's wrong?" The friends instantly rushed to her side.

She leaned heavily against the wall, her face pale, her breathing shallow. "I’m so dizzy... I think I'm running a high fever."

One of the guys touched her forehead. "Shit, she's burning up. Harrison, we need to take her back to the clinic."

Harrison checked his watch, anxiety tightening his chest. "You guys take her. I need to get home to Audrey right now."

"Harrison..." Gia’s eyes flooded with tears, her voice small and broken. "I only got sick because I stood in the freezing draft yesterday modeling your wedding gown and testing your photographers... And now that I'm sick, you're just going to abandon me?"

The guys glared at Harrison, their voices laced with reproach.

"Harrison, come on. Gia did all of this to help you and Audrey."

"If it weren't for Gia, Audrey wouldn't even have a gown that fits her frame today."

"And the photographer! Gia spent all afternoon posing so Audrey's photos would turn out right!"

Harrison stood frozen, holding the cascading bouquet of white lilies. "Audrey has been waiting for me all morning."

"She’s waited three whole years, Harrison! What's one more day?"

The words hung in the air, striking him like a blunt physical blow.

Harrison looked down at the delicate white petals in his hand.

He thought of the past three years. No matter how brutal the winter was, no matter how empty the pantry became, Audrey had always greeted him at the door with a bright, unconditional smile. It was as if nothing in this world could ever break her spirit.

If she was truly that strong... what difference would twenty-four hours make?

He slowly slipped off his tuxedo jacket.

"Call the planners," he said quietly. "Postpone the wedding by one day."

"On it."