Tasha

Riley

Damien and I settle into a private booth at an elegant restaurant downtown, the kind of place with dim lighting, soft music, and a menu where nothing's written in plain English. 

It's a cozy spot, and there's something comforting about being here with him, away from everything. Just us. He orders a bottle of wine, and I can already see the tension melting from his shoulders as we settle in.

"So," he says, giving me a rare, relaxed smile. "How did the dress fitting go?"

I can't help but beam a little. "It was amazing. I think I found the dress. Lea almost cried."

He chuckles, raising an eyebrow. "Lea cried? Well, that's a first."

I laugh, shaking my head. "Almost. She tried to keep it together. But honestly, it was kind of a big moment for both of us. I never imagined myself doing that—trying on a wedding dress by myself, finding one that just felt … right."