Page 12 of Trapped
I forced myself to hold her gaze. “I’ve done everything my fiancé has asked me to do. I just needed a moment to myself.”
“For what?”
“To bealone. Weddings are stressful enough without you breathing down my neck.”
She released me and held out her palm. “Give me your phone.”
I handed it over. A sickening pulse throbbed in my stomach as she unlocked it, her thumb clicking my recent calls list. She bared her teeth as she stabbed Santino’s number and hit the button for speakerphone.
Please don’t pick up.
I swallowed hard, trying to look bored. Zofia glared at me as she waited for the call to connect. My heart slammed against my ribs. If Santino answered, it would all be ruined.
The phone rang once, twice, and then?—
“Hello?” A woman’s voice echoed through the speaker.
Zofia’s brows arched. “Who is this?”
“This is Julia from Bliss Bridal.”
“Why did Delilah call this number?”
“Um…just following up about the gown and last-minute alterations.”
I stared at Zofia, praying she would buy it. She frowned. “Shouldn’t you be speaking with the wedding planner?”
“Oh, I do apologize. There was a minor question regarding the fit, and I wanted to make sure it was perfect for the big day. It’s a quick follow-up. We want Delilah to look her absolute best.”
Zofia hesitated. “Well, go through the proper channels in the future.”
“Of course. Thank you so much for understanding.”
Zofia hung up and thrust the phone into my hand. I slipped it into my dress, slowly letting out a tense breath.Thanks, Julia, whoever you are. Luckily, Santino had planned for this situation weeks ago.
As I returned to the party, Zofia’s stare bored into my head. I had to be careful. Any slip-up and Zofia would pounce on me.
The ride to the church was a blur, with Zofia sitting beside me, watching. When we arrived, my throat was so tight I could barely breathe. The massive doors loomed ahead, the steps lined with white lilies. Guests had already filled the pews.
Zofia grabbed me as I stepped out of the car.
I allowed myself to be led up the steps and into a small antechamber where various family members picked to be my bridesmaids waited. Soft chatter filled the room as the girls adjusted their tulle skirts, making last-minute touch-ups to their makeup. When we entered, the room quieted.
Natalia, the wedding planner, shepherded women into place. The girls fell into line, their pastel-colored dresses swirling as they moved. Zofia stood at the door leading to the church, her arms crossed.
“You should get to your seat,” I told her.
Zofia nodded. “Remember, Delilah. No foolishness.”
She disappeared inside. Minutes later, the organ music swelled to life. One by one, bridesmaids filed down the aisle.
A door creaked, and I gritted my teeth. Natalia poked her head in.
“It’s time,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
I forced a smile. “Just need a moment. I’ll be right out.”
She hesitated but nodded and slipped out, closing the door behind her. I let out a shaky breath and wiped my palms on my dress.