Chapter 169: Wedding Dress Fitting

Chapter 169: Wedding Dress Fitting
(Gretel’s POV)

The sun had barely shone bright in the sky when the girls and I gathered in the foyer, ready for today's task and buzzing with anticipation, it seems.

This was it. We'd planned today to be our shopping spree day. For the wedding dresses.

With the bridesmaids finally in town and Jazmine glued to Aron since last night, I had to practically pull her out of his arms this morning, with a reminder text, of course.

But when she showed up, she was bright-eyed and looking already in full bridal command mode.

“Okay, we’ve got a tight schedule, ladies,” she announced, waving her phone. “Spa, mani-pedi, facials, then the dress mall. No detours!”

She had booked for the list, it seems. And it appears to be exquisite and expensive. The Jazmine I know doesn't do things halfway—especially not when it comes to her own wedding prep.

We filed into the sleek van waiting outside like a row of excited schoolgirls on a field trip. I glanced around at our group—Mira, Bianca, our two other college friends, Jazmine and me.

All of us laughing, teasing, brimming with fun, it seems.

The drive to the spa was filled with chatter. Mira was already talking about sneaking champagne into the spa room, and Bianca was trying to convince us to get matching henna tattoos.

I leaned my head back against the seat, watching the city blur past. Today was going to be long, but it feels good. No stress, no drama. Just us girls, doing something completely girlie and fun.

The spa Jazmine had chosen was a high-end sanctuary tucked away on a quiet street downtown.

The front desk gleamed, the floors smelled of jasmine oil, and soft instrumental music reached us even where we were. Even the lighting looked soothing.

We were greeted by a team of attendants dressed in pristine white. Jazmine gave our names, and the receptionist’s eyes lit up with recognition.

“Ah, the bridal party,” she said, and we were whisked away into luxury.

Jazmine and I were taken to a private suite—the bridal treatment room. Everything was beautiful: soft lighting, silk robes, warm tea served in delicate cups, and aromatherapy that made my body feel lighter.

The treatments began.

First, a full-body massage that seems to work out on every muscle in my body. I melted into the table, feeling the pressure of wedding preparations slowly drain away.

Then came a cucumber mask and a facial scrub that made my skin feel like glass. Manicure and pedicure followed—lavender soak, exfoliation, and the gentlest filing I’d ever experienced.

We were pampered like royalty, and for once, I let myself fully enjoy it.

I peeked at Jazmine during her facial, her face hidden under layers of glowing cream and slices of orange around her eyes. “We look ridiculous,” I whispered.

“I feel like a glazed donut,” she replied.

We burst out laughing.

After we finished, robes back on, we went to join the bridesmaids who were lounging in their own suite with fresh nail polish and steaming mugs of tea.

They all looked relaxed, radiant, and definitely more giggly than usual.

Mira stood up and did a twirl. “I could get used to this life.”

Bianca grinned. “Tell Devion to book this for us every month.”

We took a few pictures together—silly faces, peace signs, robe selfies—and then changed into casual clothes for our next mission: dresses.

The mall Jazmine took us to wasn’t a regular shopping center. It was more like a bridal haven.

An entire building dedicated to wedding dresses and accessories, with polished floors, huge chandeliers, and racks on racks of gowns in almost all imaginable style.

It was overwhelming in a good way.

We split into sections. The bridesmaids fluttered off to one side of the floor, already debating colors and lengths of dresses.

Jazmine and I headed toward the private bridal suites. We each had a dedicated assistant, a curtained room, and racks of white gowns waiting for us.

The first dress I tried on was beautiful. Sleek satin, a fitted bodice, a dramatic train. But something about it felt… too polished.

The second was a lace-covered number, but I felt too tight in it. The third had a plunging neckline that made me laugh out loud.

“Too scandalous for the pack elders,” I said through the curtain.

“I dare you to wear it anyway,” Mira called back, followed by laughter from the others.

Jazmine peeked into my room, looking stunning in her own dress—a modern mermaid cut with off-shoulder sleeves and sparkly beading.

“Try the one with the pearl detail next. I have a feeling you'll look good in it.”

I did.

And when I stepped out of the curtain wearing it… I saw myself.

The dress fit on me just beautifully. A blend of silk and soft tulle, it hugged my figure gently and flowed around me.

The neckline was elegant, the sleeves delicate, and the train trailed behind me stunningly. But it wasn’t just the way it looked. It was how I felt in it.

I felt beautiful in it. Like it was made for me. Beautiful in ways more than one.

“Oh My God,” Mira whispered.

Bianca gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Jazmine said, her eyes glimmering. “That’s the one for you.”

I twirled in front of the mirror, and the reflection nearly brought tears to my eyes. I saw a bride. Not just a girl trying on dresses. But a bride.

Me—Gretel Gregory, about to marry the man whom I love.

The assistant brought me a veil to try on. As soon as it was placed on my head, I pictured Devion standing at the altar, watching me walk down the aisle.

I smiled softly, my heart full of love.

And then Jazmine found hers. A gown made of glittery lace with a plunging back, fitted to absolute beauty. She looked like royalty and a model all at once.

“Aron might faint when he sees you,” I said.

She beamed, spinning slowly in front of the mirror. “Let’s hope he does.”

We spent another hour helping the bridesmaids decide. After much debate, they chose deep lavender floor-length dresses, all in the same shade but with varied styles to suit their personalities.

Flowing chiffon, soft satin, delicate straps, tasteful slits. A blend of unity and individuality.

We left the mall in the early evening, our arms full of dresses and our hearts fuller with love, if I can guess.

The van was quiet on the way back—not from tiredness, but from the kind of satisfaction that follows a well-spent day, it seems.

We leaned into each other, some of the girls dozing off, others just scrolling through pictures.

I held my dress bag tightly in my lap.

One more day.

Just one more day until I became his.

Until we stood before everyone present and promised ourselves to each other.

And suddenly, I couldn’t wait.