Page 8 of Rock the Boat
Two Years Later…
Staring in the mirror, I held one dress after another in front of me, trying to decide which one I liked the best as I hummed my own version of the irritatingly simple nursery rhyme that always got stuck in my head.
Row, row, row your boat
Your wedding’s your new dream
I’ll take the ship and cut you out
Relishing each and every scream.
Row, row, row your boat
Your life is what I’ll take
You left me to die, so an eye for an eye
My revenge will make you quake.
“May I help you?” the blonde saleswoman asked with a giant fake smile.
“I’ll take this one. Thank you.” I handed her a strapless, body-hugging dress in vibrant violet.
“This will look great on you,” she gushed.
“Thank you.”
“Special occasion?”
“A wedding. One of my old friends is getting married.” I grinned and followed her to the cash register. People annoyed me, but I couldn’t attend a wedding on a boat without doing a little bit of shopping.
“Row, row, row your boat. Your wedding’s your new dream,” I sang to myself.
“What was that?” The cashier stared at me expectantly.
I smiled and giggled. “Oh, you know. That song Row, Row, Row Your Boat is constantly getting stuck in my head.”
Nodding vigorously, she agreed, “Oh my god! My niece sang it for her kindergarten school play, and it took me a full week to get it out of my head.”
I snorted. “Addicting, isn’t it?”
“Very.” She handed me the garment bag with my dress and my receipt. “Have a lovely time at the wedding. I’m sure you’ll knock ‘em dead.”
I couldn’t fight the smirk. “Thank you. I fully intend to.” Taking my purchases, I walked to the front of the store and left.
It was still odd to me. I’d been in this store countless times with my mother before my “ordeal” and could never get anyone to give me the time of day. Now, people fawned all over me, wanting to help all they could. If they didn’t have something in my size, they would call around until they found one of their locations that did have it, and this was not the only place that bent over backward.
A lot had changed in two years. Gone was the wallflower who would rather disappear in the shadows than stand out. I grew my hair out, got highlights, learned how to put on makeup, and I might have gotten a few minor procedures done, one of which helped to hide the scar on my neck a little more. It would never go completely away, and I didn’t want it to. It was my reminder of what was done to me and renewed my anger and bitterness on a daily basis.
No, I was no longer meek and mild, no longer someone who could be taken advantage of. I had survived and had come back stronger. I took what I wanted, did what I liked, and no one controlled me. Men were nothing to me and never would be again.
The sound of my phone ringing pulled me from my thoughts, and I answered it without checking the name. It could only be one person. “Hello, Dom.”
“Are you really going to go through with this? You could just, I don’t know, not go,” he said in lieu of a greeting. The man who saved me was still trying to play knight in shining armor, but I was beyond rescue at this point. If anyone needed rescuing, it was everyone else.
“We’ve been over this. I feel it is in my best interest to attend the wedding. I mean, I was an invited guest.” I winked at an older, balding man whose gaze followed me as I passed him.
“You were hired to be the assistant to the wedding planner,” he snapped, sighing after the words were out.
