Chapter 3

Alyssa POV

“Hurry up, bitch. We’re ready to see it!” Chelsea hollers from the other side of the curtain.

“Yeah. Hurry up!” Ashley chimes in, her words slurred just enough to betray the endless flow of champagne they’ve been knocking back out there.

I roll my eyes, biting back a grin.

God, they sound like sorority girls at a frat party instead of grown women at a fancy boutique.

“Give me a second!” I shout back, laughing as Sara tugs at the zipper. “She has to finish getting me in this thing first.”

My pulse kicks a little faster as the bodice tightens around me.

This is really happening.

For a second, the noise from the salon fades—Ashley’s drunken heckling, Chelsea’s impatient squeals, even Sara fussing with the zipper. All I hear is my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.

Me.

In a fucking wedding dress.

In three weeks, I’ll be marrying the men of my dreams. The men who destroyed everything ugly in my life and