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Even with the cool of autumn closing in on winter to keep the heat from the air, it was starting to get warm and overwhelming trying on so many shirts and suits and ties and—
Perhaps the heat was all the more to do with nerves and panic, than it was to do with the temperature of the shop.
Chimney hadn't changed out of the suit they had decided on for him, and Hen could hear him pacing slowly outside the changing room; the soft click of his dress shoes just slow enough that it wasn't adding to her nerves.
Nothing looked right. That was the problem. Nothing matched the perfection that Hen so desperately wanted to give Karen on their wedding day. She didn't even have a clear idea of what she wanted, which made her mental insistence that everything she tried on was wrong all the more infuriating. Even as the sales assistant tried to offer compliments and reassurance, Hen couldn't be swayed.
Between the gaps in the assistant's sales patter, Chimney didn't give his opinion beyond saying Hen looked amazing in every suit she wore, and, when Hen shook her head and said it wasn't right, Chimney simply nodded and said they'd keep looking until it was.
At this rate, they'd still be looking come the wedding day.
Hen smoothed down the front of the waistcoat and tugged the lapels of the jacket, then unlatched the changing room door and stepped out.
Just Chimney, his boyish grin in place, greeted her. "I sent the assistant away, thought you might want a break from the sales pitches."
Hen nodded and walked into the centre of the room to examine herself in the mirrors surrounding them. She looked at herself from each angle with scrutiny, still unable to push the panicked need for perfection from her minds’ eye.
"Hey," — Chimney put his hands on her shoulders and pressed gently — "Let's try something. Close your eyes…"
Hen did; Chimney's voice stayed steady as he continued speaking, "Imagine it’s the day of the wedding. You’re standing at that altar, you've just asked me for the tenth time if I've still got the ring," — Hen snorted, but conceded with a tilt of her head that it sounded about right — "and then the music starts. And you look down the aisle, past everyone who cares about you, who came to see you, and you see Karen."
Even though it was all imagination, as soon as Hen pictured Karen, her breath caught in her throat.
“Karen’s walking towards you,” Chimney said, “looking more beautiful than ever.”
When Hen nodded, Chimney said, “Now hold that picture in your head, open your eyes, and imagine her in the reflection beside you.”
Hen did just that, and though the conjured image from her mind only stayed for a few seconds as she looked at the mirror ahead of her, the smile that it brought along, too, stayed for longer.
“Yes,” she said, eventually, “this is the one.”
