Mrs. Smith arrived at exactly 11:00 a.m. I had just finished dressing up after making breakfast for my step-father when she came. We were going to shop for my wedding dress and I couldn’t be more nervous.

"Emila! Mrs. Smith is here to take you for your dress fitting. Come down here!" My step-father hollered.

Giving myself one last glance in the mirror, I hurried down the steps. I was in such a hurry that I twisted my ankle and ended up falling down the stairs. "Ouch!" I winced as pain exploded in my ankle. I wanted to stay and cry the pain away but I knew Mrs. Smith was waiting for me. And if my father found out that I'd fallen from the stairs then he would kill me.

So, even though my ankle was killing me, I forced myself to get up and walk into the living room where I saw Mrs. Smith sitting with my step-father. She looked elegant in a cream dress and high heels, making me feel like a street rat in comparison.

"Hello, Mrs. Smith," I greeted her, trying to ignore the fiery anguish in my ankle.

Mrs. Smith smiled and stood up. "Emila, you're finally here. Let's go. I've taken an appointment with the best wedding dress designer in the country. We don't want to be late." She turned her attention to my father. "I will bring Emila home in a few hours."

"Don't worry, she is your daughter now, too," my step-father said.

"Let's go, Emila." Mrs. Smith strode forward, leaving me to follow behind her. With every step I took, the pain intensified. It was only the thought of Mrs. Smith that kept me from crying out loud.

As soon as I exited my house, I saw a limousine parked in front of the house. Mrs. Smith was already sitting in the back and the chauffeur held the door open for me.

"Thank you," I said to the chauffeur before sliding in the back with Mrs. Smith. The chauffeur closed the door and quickly got in the driver's seat before he started to drive. Sitting down relieved the pressure from my injured foot, but the pain was still there.

"Emila, are you alright? You look kind of pale," Mrs. Smith asked, concern evident in her eyes.

"Yes, I'm fine," I lied. "Just a little nervous."

Mrs. Smith smiled. "Oh honey, you have nothing to be nervous about."

"I'm just nervous about Jacob's reaction. I hope he likes the dress." I told her. This was at least part truth.

"I'm sure he will love it." She paused, her eyes darting left and right. "Oh look, we're here," she announced, before the door opened and both of us got out. I was trying not to let the pain in my ankle bother me, but it became difficult to walk. Thankfully, Mrs. Smith was walking ahead of me, so she didn't see me limping behind her.

As soon as I entered the shop, I was surrounded by white. There was white everywhere, from the dresses to the sofas to the doors, everything was white. It looked as if I'd entered a snow wonderland.

"This is my daughter-in-law, Emila. You can give her the dress to try on." Mrs. Smith was talking to a blonde woman with gray eyes wearing a baby pink dress.

"Of course, the dress is waiting for her in the dressing room. She can go and try it on," the blonde lady replied, before looking at me. "The dressing room is that way." She told me, pointing to the door on the left.

"Thank you." I smiled and slowly walked towards the dressing room.

"Emila? Are you sure you're alright?" Mrs. Smith asked behind me. I turned to give her a forced smile.

"Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry about me." I didn't want to bother her with my pain. Her son had bought me, I was already a burden as it was. I didn't want to make it worse.

As soon as I entered the dressing room, I removed my dress and put on the beautiful, white dress laid out for me. The dress was gorgeous with pearls and lace all over it. And it looked expensive. My mother's wedding dress was nothing compared to this. But, it held a lot more value for me than any dress in the world.

After nearly crying my eyes out because of the pain in my ankle, I finally had the dress on. I quickly wiped my tears with my hands before calling Mrs. Smith and her friend inside to see.

As soon as Mrs. Smith saw me, she smiled before turning to the blonde woman. "This dress is perfect. We'll take it." She then spoke to me. "Emila, you can change back into your clothes. I'll be waiting outside." I changed back into my clothes after they were gone, which had another wave of tears falling from my eyes. God, why wasn't this pain going away? Had I done some serious damage?

When I exited the dressing room, my eyes widened when I saw Jacob standing in the store. He frowned when he saw me. "What's wrong with her?" He asked his mother. What was going on? Why did Mrs. Smith call him?

"You can ask her. She is not telling me anything," Mrs. Smith replied. "I'm going home. You can drop her off." With a smile in my direction, Mrs. Smith walked out of the store, leaving me with Jacob.

"Are you feeling alright?" Jacob asked, striding over to me.

"Yes, I'm fine. What happened?" I asked.

"Don't lie to me, Emila. You might not be obligated to tell my mother anything, but you are obligated to tell me what is bothering you," he stated.

"Jacob, I'm fine. Honestly," I lied.

"Let's talk outside." Jacob grabbed my hand and begun dragging me out of the store. I screamed in pain as agony exploded in my ankle.

"Stop please." Jacob let go of my hand and I fell down, clutching my ankle.

"I see. You are in pain. What happened? And the truth this time," Jacob demanded.

I took a deep breath. "I fell down the stairs."

"Why didn't you tell me when I first asked you? How can I trust you to be a good wife when I can't even trust you to tell me when you are in pain?" He asked, his eyes blazing with anger.

"I'm sorry, Jacob." I knew he wouldn't understand my reasons, and I was in too much pain to tell him.

"Let's go. I'm taking you to the hospital."

What? The hospital?

Oh no!