CHAPTER 179: 179 ~ MIRA

I never thought I’d be nervous about trying on a wedding dress again.

But there I was standing in front of a full-length mirror inside one of the most exclusive bridal boutiques in Los Angeles with my palms slightly clammy, heart doing that annoying fluttery thing it always did when something mattered.

Cecilia, our wedding planner, was already fussing over fabrics with one of the stylists. She had her glasses perched on her head and a clipboard in hand like this was a military operation. I loved her energy, honestly. She made it all feel like a dream I didn’t even realize I had been holding onto for years.

"Mrs. Romano," the boutique attendant said with a soft smile. "Would you like champagne while you wait?"

I smiled back politely. "Just water, please. If I drink champagne now, I might buy the whole store."

She laughed and disappeared behind one of the curtains.

Cecilia turned toward me, all business. "Okay, so the designer sent over five dresses from the new collection. Timeless, elegant, nothing too heavy. I think you’ll love them."

I nodded, though my hands twisted in my lap. "You realize this is my first time actually choosing my own wedding dress, right?"

She blinked. "Seriously?"

"Mm-hmm," I said with a small smile. "The first one was... let’s just say I didn’t get much of a say in the matter."

I didn’t know why I felt the need to tell her that but I was glad I did.

Cecilia’s expression softened instantly. "Then today, we take our time."

I exhaled, grateful. "Thank you."

She motioned toward the racks where the gowns hung — layers of silk, lace, and tulle glimmering faintly under the soft lights. "Go ahead. Let your heart choose."

My heart.

That was the thing, for the first time, it actually could.

I ran my fingers along the fabrics, feeling their smoothness. Every dress looked like it belonged in a fairytale but I wasn’t searching for something loud or dramatic. I wanted something simple, clean and elegant. Something that felt like me.

The first dress I tried on was lovely off-shoulder, satin, with a fitted waist and a gentle train. It was beautiful, objectively. But when I looked in the mirror, it didn’t move me.

Cecilia tilted her head. "It’s stunning, but I don’t see you in it."

"Exactly." I smiled a little. "It feels like I’m playing dress-up."

She nodded approvingly. "Next."

The second one was softer with thin straps, embroidered lace, a back that dipped gracefully. I stepped out of the fitting room, and even Cecilia’s voice softened. "Now that’s something."

I turned slowly, catching my reflection again. The lace hugged my figure delicately, and when I looked closer, I saw myself smiling. I was really smiling. Not the nervous one I wore out of politeness, but the real kind that crept up when my heart recognized joy.

Still, something told me to keep looking.

Three more dresses later, I finally stepped into one that made my chest tighten before I even saw it in full.

It was light and almost ethereal. The bodice was sheer lace, detailed with tiny pearls, the skirt flowing like water when I moved. It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t loud. It was quiet beauty. It was the kind that whispered instead of shouted.

When I stepped out, Cecilia gasped softly. "Oh... Mira."

I turned toward the mirror and froze.

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe.

This was it.

This was the dress.

It didn’t feel like a costume. It felt like coming home.

My reflection stared back at me. She was softer, older and more certain. I didn’t see the girl who’d been forced into a gown four years ago, terrified of what came next. I saw a woman who had walked through fire and somehow came out with her heart still beating.

I thought of Jace just then. How he’d look at me. How his lips would twitch into that half-smile before he would lean down and whisper something that would make me blush in front of everyone.

"Found it, didn’t you?" Cecilia’s voice was gentle now.

I nodded, eyes stinging a little. "Yeah. I found it."

She smiled knowingly. "Then we’ll have it tailored to perfection. He won’t know what hit him."

I laughed softly, brushing a tear that slipped before I could stop it. "He’s not allowed to see it until the wedding."

"Of course not. We’ll hide it from him like it’s classified information," she teased.

We spent the next hour finalizing fittings and adjustments. The staff were kind and patient, offering veils, shoes, and jewelry that shimmered under the boutique lights. Every time I caught my reflection, I felt that same strange mixture of peace and awe.

When it was all done, Cecilia gathered her notes and smiled. "You know, I’ve worked with so many brides, but I can tell — this means something deeper to you."

I smiled faintly, fingers brushing the fabric one last time. "It does. Four years ago, I didn’t even know what love was supposed to feel like. I was scared, confused, angry... but now—"

I stopped, looking down at the gown.

"Now I understand it’s not about perfection. It’s about choosing each other again, even after everything."

Cecilia’s expression softened, and she nodded. "That’s what makes it beautiful."

On the drive home, I looked out the window at the city rushing by. The sun was dipping low, painting the skyline in gold and rose.

My phone buzzed with a message from Jace.

Jace: "How’s the secret mission?"

I grinned, typing back quickly.

Me: "Classified."

Jace: "So, you found it."

I could almost hear his smug tone through the text.

Me: "You’ll find out when the time’s right."

Jace: "I can’t wait."

That one made me pause, smiling at the screen.

The truth was, neither could I.

Because this time, it wasn’t about duty or survival or promises made under duress.

This time, it was about love. The lobe we built with our own hands, the kind that finally felt like forever.

And as the city lights blurred past, I held onto that feeling with the quiet certainty that after everything, we’d made it.

Or maybe not...