Chapter 6 - The Four Thousand Dollar Dress
The tension in the apartment reached a boiling point on a Thursday evening. I came home early from the office, exhausted, only to find Brittany parading in front of the hallway mirror.
My breath hitched.
She was wearing a custom navy-blue Oscar de la Renta evening gown. It was a piece I had purchased for $4,000 for an upcoming industry awards gala. It was tailored precisely to my measurements. Brittany was at least two sizes larger than me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded, dropping my briefcase.
Brittany jumped. “I was just trying it on! Eric said I could borrow a dress for my date tonight.”
“Take it off. Right now.”
As she twisted to reach the back zipper, I heard the sickening, unmistakable sound of expensive fabric ripping. The seam along the ribs split wide open.
Brittany gasped, looking at the torn silk.
“You ruined it,” I whispered, my blood boiling.
“It’s not my fault!” she shrieked, instantly going on the defensive. “It must be a cheap knock-off! A real dress wouldn’t tear that easily!”
“It tore because you forced yourself into a dress that doesn’t fit you!”
Eric rushed into the hallway, alerted by the shouting. “What is going on?”
Brittany immediately burst into dramatic tears. “Claire is screaming at me! I accidentally ripped a dress and she’s calling me fat!”
“I never called you that!” I fired back. “Eric, she ruined a four thousand dollar custom gown.”
Eric looked at the dress, then glared at me. “Seriously, Claire? You’re going to humiliate my sister over a piece of cloth? She just wanted to feel pretty for her date.”
“Who is paying to replace it, Eric?”
He scoffed. “You have fifty dresses. Just wear another one. Stop being a bully.”
He put his arm around his crying sister and led her to the guest room, slamming the door. I stood alone in the hallway, holding the torn silk. That night, I packed a small bag and slept in my office.
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The marriage was over. I just needed to prove it.
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