ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

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I can't believe how long it takes to find a dress

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I can't believe how long it takes to find a dress. For a wedding. How difficult could it be?

Every single dress Sierra tried on, she looked absolutely stunning in. But it was never... it. She needs a dress she'll stand out with. Something that highlights her curves and baby belly. The belly that's only small but at least present.

Sierra has to look perfect, not that she won't anyway. That's so annoying. She looks stunning in anything she wears, and it bugs me that I think this.

If it weren't for our child, I'd never even have thought about her again.

Maybe that's not entirely true. Even after I thought I'd got her out of my system back in Vancouver, I didn't. It only got worse. And now we're having a child together. How much worse could this get?

I'll never get rid of her. But what's scarier, I don't think I want to anyway.

Now I'm here, watching Sierra try on different dresses, some of which look awfully a lot like the real thing. A wedding dress. But that's also kind of what I'm going for.

I can hear Sierra gasp from the changing room, followed be a laugh. "Atlas, close your eyes!"

She's finally calling me by my first name. Not sure how we got there, I was pretty busy picturing her spread over my desk, but I won't complain.

There's only a handful of people calling me by my first name, but neither of them make my name sound important. But when Sierra does... it does things to me. Things I do not like.

"Are they closed?"

Right. "No."

"Then do so! Now."

She's totally the only person that would ever be allowed to order me around. Of course I won't tell her that. God knows what she would do with this kind of information.

"So bossy, Ms. Bloom," I say and actually close my eyes. "Are you trying to take over my company?"

"I'd be a way better CEO anyway." That she would. "Closed?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Stop calling me sweetheart," she groans. I won't, she knows I won't. And I know, deep down, she likes it.

A second later I can hear the curtain to the changing room open, footsteps slowly coming closer.

She gasps again as she—I assume—looks at herself in the massive mirror on the opposite side of me.

"Oh God," she says, "don't open your eyes. This looks awful."

Now I have to. She can't just tell me not to do something. Of course that's exactly what I'll do then.

So I open my eyes, wishing I didn't when I look at her.

I can only see Sierra's back as she's turned towards the mirror. But hell, this dress looks....

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