Chiffon or tulle.

Rebecca Simpson has a degree in English Literature, and she's currently stood on a box dressed like a wedding topper trying to decide between chiffon and tulle.

"How does that feel?" The retail assistant, Layla, asks, running her hands over the multiple layers of material flowing down Bex's body.

"Oh, uh..."Bex splutters, letting her fingers curl into the fabric. Is it chiffon or tulle? She has no idea. "It's nice."

Her mother scoffs, a judgmental eyebrow raised nearly to her hairline, "We don't want 'nice', Rebecca, we want the one."

The one, the voice in Bex's head mocks, causing her to smirk.

At her daughter's silence, Eliza continues, "Get the others, Lisa."

The assistant looks at her wide eyed and scurries off.

Bex watches her go sympathetically, then rolls her blue eyes, "Her name is Layla."

"I don't care as long as helps you find a dress." Her mother dismisses, getting up to look at the display dresses adorned in jewels and lace.

"I'm not wearing one of those. I'm getting married, not sold at the fair like some show-pony." Bex grumbles, yanking on the dress she already has on.

"I got married in a dress like this, and I was awarded best in show." A confident voice jokes from out of nowhere.

The two women turn and lay eyes on the new presence in the bridal boutique.

In the doorway, in all of her regal glory, is Duchess Alexandra of Gloucester. She's in a white peacoat, her long dark hair is slicked back into a low ponytail, and her eyes are covered by giant black sunglasses which she takes off to look at the two women. She looks like a supermodel.

"Alexandra!" Eliza exclaims over-enthusiastically, getting up and rushing over to her, "It's been so long!"

The shorter woman envelopes the Duchess in a warm hug, as though they're old friends. Alexandra, out of courtesy, tentatively returns the embrace. Over Eliza's shoulder, she locks eyes with Rebecca, and gives her a long, suffering look and mouths 'Not long enough'.

Bex giggles silently, turning her head slightly to hide her face.

"It's a lovely dress," Alexandra comments, studying the younger woman's form, "but not on you. You need something less... poofy... this just swamps your figure."

Bex frowns. The duchess is right of course, Rebecca does look like a cupcake in this dress, but it's still not nice to hear.

She gives Alexandra a small smile and dismounts from the platform.

"I remember my wedding day." Alexandra starts, analysing Bex as she talks, "It was... magical."

Bex eyes the duchess warily, she has an uncharacteristically soft look on her face, and it makes her feel very uneasy.

"I was so in love." She continues at the younger woman's silence, "I walked down that aisle, saw Arthur's father standing there, and felt nothing but pure love. He looked so handsome."

Alexandra pauses, her mouth twitching slightly with a frown, "On your wedding day, you're committing yourself to the person who makes your heart sore, who you would give with world to... You may not feel that for anyone at the moment but I hope that by the time the wedding comes around, you will be able to feel that for my son."

Bex feels her body go cold. The Duchess's words ring in her head, buzzing around like wasps. It would be lovely, to have that feeling as she commits herself to someone forever. The only problem is that as she pictures herself standing there, at the altar, she can imagine who is there with her. And it's not Arthur.

"Here, Sweetheart, try this one!" Eliza interrupts her reverie, bursting out from another section of the store with a long flowing gown in her arms.

It's beautiful; satin with a simple silhouette and ruching towards the bottom.

Bex smiles softly as she stares at it, and takes it from her mother, retreating into the changing room.

There's no mirror in this part of the store; they like to have the brides to see themselves in the dress at the same time their families do. Bex slips into the garment, letting Layla zip her up at the back. She squeaks as her waist is pulled tight by the corset.

"Jesus." She breathes quietly, earning a soft chuckle from her company.

"I know." Layla says, smoothing down the creases, "But you've got to do what you can to feel good on your special day."

"Trust me," Bex mumbles with a frown, "this isn't my special day."

Layla ignores her, finishing the final touches on the dress and guiding her out into the waiting area. Both Alexandra and Eliza's mouths part slightly, fixing her matching looks of joy.

"Oh... Oh Rebecca... You look fantastic!" Her mother comments, running her eyes down the length of the dress, admiring the way it fits her.

"Really?" Bex smiles sheepishly, still not having looked at herself in the mirror.

"Like a princess." Alexandra tells her, gesturing toward the wall where the mirror is hung, "Have a look for yourself."

Rebecca does, slowly spinning around, careful not to step on the train of the dress which is pooled around her feet.

She must admit, she looks absolutely beautiful. The dress fits her perfectly, giving her curves where she didn't think she had any. On any other day, this would be the one.

But...

She can't help but feel like an impostor.

She's stood on a platform, trying on wedding dresses, getting ready to marry someone she doesn't love. Someone who's heart belongs to another. Belongs to someone she admires, to the first person in a long while who's shown her any semblance of kindness. A person she cares about. She feels like the worst friend in the world, a feeling that has become all too familiar in recent weeks.

And that's not all. She pictures what it will be like. To walk down the aisle in the most beautiful dress she's ever seen, on the most important day of her life. To hold her father's hand and kiss his cheek before he hands her over... to Arthur.

She loves Arthur, truly. He is one of the kindest, most pure-of-heart people she's ever met. But he's her friend. And the idea of committing her life to someone she could never be in love with makes her feel nauseous. Rebecca wants to save that moment, walking down the aisle, into her future, into forever, for the love of her life. She can't begin to imagine what that must feel like for Arthur, because he's already found his.

"You look incredible, Darling." Rebecca is pulled out of her stream of consciousness by her mother, who has appeared at her side. She's placed both her hands on her daughter's shoulders, resting her chin near Bex's head.

"You think so?" Bex says quietly, still a little out of it.

"Yes. I've never been so proud of you, Rebecca." Eliza tells her sincerely, "You've made your father so happy."

That snapped Bex out of her turmoil like an elastic band. She stares at her mother in the mirror, studying the joyous look on her face. It's... real. Honest.

Suddenly Rebecca is bombarded by a feeling of warmth. Of love. It's so rare, so unfamiliar, that she has to blink a couple of times to let it truly sink in.

Is this what it feels like to make your parents happy? To be the child that they dreamed of?

This is what it took, after 22 years, for her parents finally see her. And not just see her, but to be genuinely glad at what they've seen.

It's an addictive feeling; not being a disappointment.

No matter how bad Rebecca feels, nor how much she wishes it were under different circumstances, she has finally made her parents look at her with expressions other than contempt or pure disinterest.

After getting a taste of it, she won't risk her parents' love. She won't risk losing this feeling.

And if the only way to keep this feeling is to go through with a wedding that she doesn't want, then so be it. It's the price she'll pay.