Not His Bride

Hazel

I’m in one of the fitting rooms at NPC, the mirror reflecting a dozen dresses in various cuts and shades. The attendants move efficiently, placing each piece in front of me, following a silent script dictated by Katerina. My hands touch the fabric, but my mind is elsewhere—clouded with thoughts I can’t shake, regrets I can’t bury.

Regrets for not letting him slip away. Regrets for not stoppi