Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Knew Where to Press
I called Stella at three thirty.
Evelyn started to object.
“I’m not confronting her,” I said. “I need her to believe tomorrow is still happening.”
Mom answered on the first ring.
“Sweetheart? Are you okay?”
Behind her, something rustled.
A bed sheet.
I gripped the hotel desk.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh, honey. Wedding nerves.”
“Were you nervous before you married Dad?”
A pause.
“That was a long time ago.”
Dad had left when I was four. For years, Mom had told me I was too needy, too difficult, too much like him.
Grandma had eventually stopped letting her say it in our house.
“I just keep thinking about everything,” I said.
“Don’t do that. You always make yourself miserable by thinking too much.”
There it was.
The familiar shove, wrapped in concern.
“Julian says there are papers to sign tomorrow.”
“Yes. Nothing important. Just things married people handle.”
“If they’re not important, can they wait?”
Her tone changed.
Only slightly.
“Mariana, please don’t start.”
“Start what?”
“Making things hard. That man has done so much for you.”
Across the room, Lena’s mouth fell open.
I looked at my wedding dress.
The dress I bought.
For the wedding I paid for.
To the man driving the car in my garage.
“You’re right,” I said.
Mom relaxed.
“I’ll bring everything to your room. We’ll take care of it before the ceremony.”
“I thought afterward.”
Silence.
Then a light laugh.
“Before, after. Does it matter?”
It mattered enough that she had moved the deadline.
“No,” I said. “I guess not.”
When I hung up, Evelyn looked at me.
“She’s worried.”
“Good.”
“Worried people can become unpredictable.”
“So can daughters.”
Lena stepped between us.
“We need a plan that keeps you safe.”
We made one.
My wedding planner, Beth, would control access to the bridal suite.
Evelyn would stay nearby.
The priest would be told privately that I would not be taking vows.
There would be no surprise legal trap at the altar. No accidental marriage. No signature made for the sake of appearances.
The guests would hear the truth before a ceremony began.
My mother and Julian could still choose to stay home.
They didn’t know that yet.
At four twelve, my phone lit up again.
A message from Julian.
Your mom says you’re anxious. Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll take care of you.
Then another.
And please don’t have Evelyn hovering tomorrow. This is our day.
May you like
For the first time that night, I smiled.
He had just told me exactly who frightened him.
