Layla didn't stick around to chat with Kenzie and Marshall after the second half of their workout. The anger from her conversation with Dawson meant she wanted to go harder, wanted to push herself to her limits, but she couldn't do that while teaching a class. It only left her even more frustrated.

She wasn't lying when she said she'd love having them as clients, and she also wasn't lying about not being busy— her parents and Colin's really were taking care of every aspect of the wedding, from the venue and her dress to her bridal party.

Colin's parents wanted symmetry at the altar, and that was proving to be quite the issue thanks to Layla's lack of friends. So far her bridesmaids consisted of three Foster Fitness employees, who she had a suspicion were being paid extra for the trouble. If anyone thought about putting juice-bar-girl into the lineup, she was worried she'd go into hysterics at the absurdity of it all.

But what was she thinking, inviting to take Kenzie and Marshall on as clients? She hadn't been, because she was so swept up in the success of the program so far and the fact that Dawson had tagged along again. She'd extended the invitation to the couple while Dawson was still being cordial. Before he'd doused the endorphins from her run in flames and sent her blazing. To put it simply, before he'd turned back into a know-it-all jerk.

Signing Marshall and Kenzie on would mean keeping contact with them for the foreseeable future, which wouldn't give her much breathing room from Dawson. Even if she never saw him, even if they never mentioned him, just knowing he was around would be enough to suffocate her.

Wedding talk would've been enough to sour her good mood all on it's own, but his attack on her morality really sealed the deal. She needed to get away for awhile, if for nothing more than to completely eliminate the chance of seeing Dawson again until dinner.

She retired to her room to shower and put on a little makeup, then changed into her most comfortable pair of jeans and a kelly-green tank-top. After slipping on a pair of sandals she headed through the house with taught shoulders, worried that she'd run into Dawson every time she turned a corner. When she finally made it into her car she let out a long breath, turning on the AC to fight the heat of the dying summer.

She cranked the radio on the drive to Red View, filling the thirty minutes with mind-numbing pop music that did very little to lift her spirits. Even the rolling hills and open, cerulean sky couldn't make a dent in her bad mood.

Soon enough she was rolling into Red View, still with a scowl on her face. With the way the orchard ran and the fact that she worked every day, she forgot it was the weekend until she arrived and saw how lively the small town was. Families sat outside of an ice cream parlor while nearby, groups of teens sat at the tables in front of a quaint café. Women filtered in and out of a boutique while two older men stood in front of the barber shop having what looked to be quite the in-depth conversation. Cars occupied almost every space of the parking lot for the market that sat further back off the main road.

It was a wonder, seeing how even in what was probably its busiest moment, Red View still seemed so empty compared to New York. The lack of honking horns and too-brave pedestrians made her smile. She'd thought for so long that she'd seen nearly everything the world had to offer. It wasn't until she got to Red View that she realized she'd hardly seen any of it at all.

She parallel parked in front of the bakery, its old-fashioned sign and goodies in the window calling out to her. Like she told Dawson, she allowed herself a treat now and then, and this morning definitely called for one. She unbuckled her seatbelt with a huff—why was she thinking of him again?

The bakery was bright inside, with pale blue walls and well-lit display cases filled with delicacies. Customers sat at the round tables placed neatly in the small space, chatting away over muffins and scones. Behind the counter, past the register, she could see back into the kitchen where workers were busy molding dough and icing cookies. The fragrance of it all made her mouth water, and had her heading straight for the rack where single slices of cake were presented on fancy doilies just waiting to be bought and savored.

As she was wondering which flavor to pick, she felt someone come up beside her and turned to see Roman standing there with a smile.

"I can honestly say I didn't expect to see you in here," he teased. 

She took in the flour on his cheek and the blue apron he was wearing. "I was just taking a tour of the town and figured I'd grab a bite before I walk around for a bit. You work here?"

He nodded. "Just on the weekends. I retired from the orchard a few years back, but I missed baking for the store. With how much Dawson likes doing it, there's no need for me to help out over there that often."

Dawson was the one who did the baking? It surprised her to think of the strong, disagreeable man putting the time into a hobby as delicate as making pastries and cakes. She'd eaten the one she bought from the store, and it was delicious. Why had she assumed it had come from Kenzie's hands, or even Jack's?

"I assume you taught him what he knows?"

"I did. Lillie Mae taught the kids about apple trees and fertilizer, and I taught 'em how to put those apples to good use. Dawson really was the only one who ever held my same level of interest in it, though. Jack's all business, and Cliff and Kenzie never seemed too enamored with any of it." He turned back to the display case and pointed to a deep red cake with white icing covered in sugar crystals. "I'd recommend the red velvet, personally."

"I'll take it," she said with a smile.

"Perfect." He headed behind the counter and slid open the glass door, taking a minute to box up the slice before leading her over to the register. "So you're seeing more of Red View today?"

"Mm-hmm. It's a beautiful town. I figure I should enjoy it while I'm still here." And so I can avoid your son for a few hours.

"I bet Lillie Mae would love it if you paid her a visit," he said, punching numbers into the register. He used his other hand to point left, explaining, "Her bridal shop is just a block down."

He told her the total and she paid it happily, leaving a hefty tip in the jar on the counter. She was used to New York prices, and it seemed almost wrong to take the well-crafted cake for so little.

"You think so?" she asked, going back to the topic of Roman's wife. "I wouldn't want to interrupt, if she was working."

He waved off the worry. "I think she said she only had two appointments today, both closer to noon. She'd be happy for the company. She'll probably talk your ear off about dresses, though."

Layla laughed, accepting the striped paper bag that contained her boxed-up cake. "I won't mind." No, she could do with some pleasant, meaningless small talk about designers and silhouettes. She'd welcome it with open arms and try to let it distract her from the conversation with Dawson that was still rolling around in her mind.

"Well I'll see you again at dinner soon, or breakfast one of these days," Roman said as the opening door jingled to signal another customer. "Lillie and I like to visit a lot."

"I look forward to it." She meant that, too. Not just because their presence would make Dawson less likely to harass her with questions, but because she liked the couple. They were wholehearted and friendly, and it made her warm—if not a little jealous—to know that a pair so happy and in love could exist.

She headed back outside, holding the door for a group of parents and kids in birthday hats before heading off in the direction that Roman had pointed.

The stroll down the brick sidewalk, passing chatty families and letting the breeze roll over her skin, was the final ingredient towards helping her calm down. She couldn't stay agitated, even by the things Dawson had said, when the sweet summer air was soughing through the trees and the sun was making light dance on the pavement.

She saw the pink, cursive sign for Lillie Mae Bridal just a ways ahead and lengthened her stride, excited to see what kind of a store the radiant woman had created. She slowed to a stop once she approached the large windows, admiring the long-sleeve A-line donned by the mannequin. The skirt sparkled with life every time the nearby trees swayed in the breeze, letting the light play on the lustrous fabric.

If it was her choice, would this be the kind of dress she'd pick out for herself? Simple, reserved, but with a hint of playful romanticism? In the past few months she hadn't let herself ponder that question even once, knowing it was useless and would only lead her to false hopes. What she wanted was out of the equation. What she needed was to accept that. Until right then, she thought she had.

In another, very different life, she would have liked coming to Red View or somewhere like it for a wedding dress. She got the feeling it was a much more personal, meaningful experience than the one she was about to have. Hers wouldn't be about how she felt in her dress, that she already knew. It would be about how she looked, how it fit in to the venue and the décor and whether or not it was up to the current fashion trends.

"It's a beauty, isn't it?"

The voice shook her from her thoughts and she jumped, turning to see Lillie Mae leaning against the open door, watching her with a knowing smile.

"I— Yes. It is. Sorry, I was..." Layla waved her hand aimlessly. "Daydreaming."

"No bride should have to apologize for that," she said with a grin, gesturing inside. "Come in, let yourself daydream about all the other dresses I have."

"I stopped by the bakery." Layla raised the striped bag she was holding. "Roman told me you had a shop, and that I should stop by. It's wonderful," she said honestly, turning around to admire the delicate interior, drenched in soft beige and brilliant white.

Natural light streamed in from the large windows, and nearby was a raised podium surrounded by chic benches and chairs, facing three mirrors that ran from the floor to the ceiling. Layla knew Kenzie already picked out her dream dress, and was sure that she'd stood in that exact spot surrounded by friends and family.

Racks were inset along the walls, displaying various dresses, and Layla suspected that the hallway nearby led back to even more. It was modern and classy, and yet held a charm that had been absent from all the stores she'd seen since Colin's proposal.

"Thank you. It's been my pride and joy for the past few years, since Roman and I left the orchard to the boys. Of course, it's a small town, so I don't get as much business as I might like. But I'm the only bridal shop around, so I do alright."

"I'm sure with Jack bringing weddings to the orchard, you'll get even more business."

The laugh she gave lit up her whole face. "Who do you think planted the idea in his head?" She nodded to the counter with an ornate, old-fashioned register. "Set your bag down and have a look around."

Layla did just that, heading for one of the racks to sift through the white dresses. "Do you curate the selection yourself?"

Lillie Mae gave a hum of confirmation. "One of my favorite parts of the job. Even after Roman and I got married, I could never get myself to stop buying the bridal magazines. I just love weddings. Been looking forward to Kenzie's big day for a while, now—I'm lucky she wants me so involved."

"And your sons?" Layla asked, pulling out a strappy, beaded ball gown.

This time Lille-Mae's laugh wasn't as jubilant. "Oh, those boys... I assume they'll want my help, if the day ever comes. But Dawson swears he'll never get married, and Jack's all business, all the time. Cliff... it's been so long since I've seen him. But he never mentions seeing anyone when we talk on the phone. I think I'll be lucky if I'm not senile by the time they walk down the aisle."

Layla forced a humored smile, replaying the part about Dawson. So he's sworn off marriage... Wasn't that just laced to the brim with hypocrisy? Criticizing her engagement when he was too cowardly to ever try his hand at his own? Who was he to talk about marriage and happiness when he clearly had no intention of ever learning about it?

"Are your parents helping with your wedding?"

"Hm?" She was carried away by her thoughts again, and felt her cheeks flush. Why did her brain keep going back to the topic of Dawson? Why did she even care? "Oh, yes. Mine and Colin's parents are taking care of... well, most of it."

"I get the sense you're not too thrilled about that."

Layla continued to busy herself with the dresses. She should've expected wedding talk at a bridal shop, and yet it still made her uncomfortable. "It's alright." She shrugged. How could she be bothered by it when she didn't care about the wedding at all? It only made her upset to think of her in someone else's shoes. Someone like Kenzie, who was marrying for love, who was going to have the wedding that she wanted, the way that she wanted it. "I appreciate that they want it to be perfect."

"Well, I wouldn't worry about that," she replied, fluffing the skirt of one of the dresses. "Trust me when I say it won't matter. If you're in love, everything could go wrong and you'd still think of it as a perfect day. And if you've found your person, so is every day after. That's what's so great about love—it makes it so you don't need perfection, anymore."

"That's how you feel with Roman?" Layla asked, voice softer than she meant it to be.

"Always. Of course, times get tough, we all go through hardships. But I know I'm lucky enough to have him by my side. To have our family. It makes me feel like I could get through just about anything."

Layla dropped her gaze down to the fabric in her hands. Fabric that would adorn someone else's body as they walked down the aisle towards a life like the one Lillie Mae was describing.

Was she really giving up all that? Was she really ready to let go of the chance that maybe, just maybe something that wonderful was out there waiting for her, too?

"It's okay to get misty." Lillie Mae placed a hand on Layla's shoulder and gave a comforting squeeze. "Colin is a lucky man, if he means that much to you."

The words felt like a punch right to her heart. What was is that had her wanting to come clean, to confess it all and ask what she was supposed to do? She thought she already had all the answers for her life, but now... now she wasn't sure she even had a vague idea of what step to take next.

"I guess so," she said instead, swallowing over the lump in her throat. She couldn't meet those kind blue eyes as she said the lie, too overcome by the guilt. She was guilty, she did feel terrible about the entire façade. It only frustrated her more that Dawson was right.

Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I figured I would skip a day because of Christmas!🎄 I hope you all had a great one if you celebrate! 💖