Chapter 10 - The Part She Left Out
I took Brooke into an empty meeting room.
Ethan came with me.
This time, I didn’t ask him to wait outside.
Brooke noticed.
She sat at the edge of a chair and twisted a ring around her finger.
“The dress wasn’t Mom’s first plan.”
I stayed standing.
“What does that mean?”
“She wanted Rosa to change your design. Add a fuller skirt. Raise the neckline. Rosa said no.”
“I know.”
“Then Mom said we could tell you there was damage during delivery.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened.
“And you agreed?” I asked.
Brooke looked at her hands.
“I found the replacement.”
The words landed quietly.
Worse than a shout.
“You picked it?”
“Mom wanted something bigger. I sent her options.”
“You told me there were problems with my dress.”
“I know.”
“You helped me put that thing on.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that like it fixes anything.”
She flinched.
For years, Brooke had been the easy daughter. The one who liked the right restaurants, wore the right labels, and knew when to laugh at our mother’s jokes.
I had thought she enjoyed it.
Maybe she did.
Maybe that was only part of it.
“Why?” I asked.
Tears slipped down her face.
“Because when she’s mad at you, she’s nice to me.”
Nobody moved.
Brooke wiped her cheek with the heel of her hand.
“I know how that sounds.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Because it sounds like you knew exactly what you were buying with my humiliation.”
She started to cry harder.
I didn’t comfort her.
That felt cruel for about three seconds.
Then it felt necessary.
“I wanted her to pick me,” Brooke said.
“She did. You helped her hurt me, and she picked you.”
Ethan touched my back.
Not to stop me.
Just to remind me he was there.
Brooke looked up.
“The original email is still in my account. The whole thread. I’ll send it.”
“I have enough.”
“There are messages about the money, too.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What messages?”
“Mom asked me to organize the wedding receipts. There’s a spreadsheet.”
“Send it.”
She nodded.
“And Brooke?”
She paused.
“You don’t get forgiven because you finally got scared.”
“I know.”
This time, she didn’t look away.
My phone chimed.
The spreadsheet arrived.
At the bottom was a remaining balance.
Enough money to matter.
May you like
Next to it, my mother had typed three words.
HOLD UNTIL RESOLVED.
