That gown had been passed down through generations of my family. My grandmother gave it to my mother, and my mother gave it to me. She told me I'd be the most beautiful bride when I wore it.
I bit through the flesh inside my cheek, but all I could do was tremble.
I was nothing but a soul now. I couldn't touch anything. I couldn't do a single thing.
Pauline ran her hands over the gown like she couldn't get enough of it, then lifted it straight off the hanger.
The chat egged her on.
"Just put it on, Pauline! Do the whole wedding ceremony with your boyfriend!"
"Yes! I bet she'd look absolutely stunning in it!"
Pauline laughed shyly, tossing Allan a coy glance.
"But it's not mine. I can't just wear someone else's things, can I?"
Allan stared at the gown, and Olivia's smiling face flashed through his mind.
Just days ago, she'd told him she wanted him to dress her in this gown with his own hands on their wedding day.
She wanted to carry her family's blessings with her and be his beautiful bride.
Allan's throat bobbed. He caught Pauline's hand.
"You can't wear it. She'd be upset."
Pauline froze. It hadn't crossed her mind that Allan would refuse her.
The chat erupted, full of complaints.