Chương 4
Ethan had not returned.
“That’s all.”
She stepped down.
The room erupted behind her.
Not shouting.
Movement.
Questions.
The sudden scrape of pews.
Her mother caught up in the vestibule.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can’t drive.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“You haven’t eaten.”
“Mom.”
Her mother stopped.
Claire rubbed her forehead and struck the tiara.
She had forgotten it was there.
“Please take this off.”
Her mother stared at her.
Then, with the concentration she had used when Claire was twelve and needed a splinter removed, she began pulling out pins.
Neither of them spoke.
The tiara came free last.
Her mother held it between two fingers.
“You paid six hundred dollars for this stupid thing.”
Claire laughed.
It came out badly.
Her mother’s eyes filled.
Claire leaned against the wall.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re about to.”
“I can cry if I want to.”
“I know.”
“You’re the one who isn’t.”
“I can’t yet.”
Her mother nodded.
They stood there while guests passed at the far end of the corridor pretending not to notice them.
Then Claire said, “I kicked a child’s backpack.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know who does that.”
Her mother looked down at the tiara.
“You did.”
Claire closed her eyes.
There was no comfort in the answer.
There was something better.
Truth.
By the time Claire reached the hotel, the video was online.
She discovered it because her phone would not stop vibrating.
Her maid of honor, Jess, confiscated it for exactly seven minutes before Claire demanded it back.
“Don’t read anything,” Jess said.
“I’m thirty years old.”
“You’re twenty-nine.”
“See? I can’t even be trusted with my own age.”
Jess sat across from her on the edge of the hotel bed, still wearing a sage-green bridesmaid dress.
“You’re making jokes. That’s not promising.”
Claire scrolled.
A guest had recorded the kick from six rows back.
The video was twelve seconds long.
The angle made Claire look taller than she was and Mia smaller.
There was the white gown.
The polished church.
The child.
Claire’s leg moving.
The backpack sliding.
Her own voice.
Get her out before she ruins my wedding.
Then Mia’s answer.
He already ruined yours.
The clip ended before the photograph.
Someone had captioned it BRIDEZILLA GETS INSTANT KARMA.
Four hundred thousand views.
Claire handed the phone to Jess.
“Can you turn it off?”
Jess did.
Claire went to the bathroom.
She unbuttoned the lace at her wrists.
Then stopped because she could not figure out how to get out of the dress without help.
She sat on the closed toilet and looked at the tiny beads sewn into the fabric.
She had chosen this gown because it did not look like every other wedding dress.
Now she could not remember what she had believed made it different.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door.
“Your mom says Ethan’s downstairs.”
“No.”
“I already told him.”
“Thank you.”
“He wants to know if you’ll talk tonight.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Another pause.
“His dad is here too.”
Claire opened the door.
“Richard?”
Jess nodded.
“Apparently.”
Of course he was.
Richard Hale had never entered a crisis he did not immediately mistake for a meeting.
Claire stood.
“Help me out of this.”
Twenty minutes later, wearing sweatpants and an old Northwestern T-shirt, she rode the service elevator downstairs.
Jess objected all the way.
“You said you weren’t seeing Ethan.”
“I’m not.”
“You are literally traveling toward him.”
“I’m seeing Richard.”
“That sentence has never made anything better.”
Claire almost smiled.
Richard waited in a private conference room off the hotel lobby.
He had removed his jacket but not his tie.
At sixty-four, he still carried himself with the polished certainty of someone accustomed to having doors opened before he reached them.
Margaret Bell stood beside the window.
Claire stopped.
Richard followed her eyes.
“Margaret was at the ceremony.”
“I saw her.”
Margaret looked ill.
Richard gestured toward a chair.
“Sit down, Claire.”
“No.”
His expression tightened.
“You’ve had an enormous shock.”
“So did Mia.”
He disliked the name.
Claire could tell.
“Mia,” she repeated.
Richard sighed.
“There are facts we need to establish before this becomes more destructive than it already is.”
Claire looked at Margaret.
“Did you sign for Nora Reyes’s letter?”
Margaret went very still.
Richard turned.
“What letter?”
Claire almost admired him.
There had been no hesitation.
No fear.
Just immediate offense at the premise.
“A certified letter delivered to your company in June 2018. Addressed to Ethan. Margaret signed for it.”
Richard’s face changed by less than an inch.
Margaret sat down.
Claire said, “Did you give it to Ethan?”
Margaret looked at Richard.
That was the answer.
Claire felt something cold settle through her.
“Margaret.”
“I gave it to Mr. Hale.”
Richard said, “This is not the place.”
Margaret’s mouth trembled.
“You told me family correspondence involving Nora was to go through you.”
Richard’s jaw hardened.
“Because she had threatened litigation.”
“No,” Margaret said.
The word surprised everyone, including Margaret.
She folded her hands.
“She never threatened litigation.”
Richard looked at her.
“Be careful.”
“I’ve been careful for eight years.”
Claire pulled out a chair and sat.
Not because he had asked.
Because suddenly her legs felt unreliable.
“What was in the letter?”
Margaret stared at the carpet.
“I opened it.”
Claire frowned.
“Why?”
“Richard instructed me to screen anything from Nora or her mother.”
Richard stood.
“That is a gross distortion.”
Margaret continued as though he had not spoken.
“There was a photograph of a baby. A copy of a birth certificate. Nora wrote that she would not pursue Ethan for money if he didn’t want involvement, but she wanted him to know the child had been born. She said if he wanted a paternity test, she would agree.”
Claire looked at Richard.
“What did you do with it?”
He did not answer.
Margaret did.
“He took it.”
“And?”
“I don’t know.”
Richard walked toward the window.
May you like
“This woman had created considerable instability in Ethan’s life.”
“Nora,” Claire said.
