Chương 10
“Someone?”
“An attorney.”
The word frightened him more than canceling the wedding had.
I saw it immediately.
“That’s unnecessary.”
“Maybe.”
“Seriously?”
“Probably.”
“You’re going to pay a lawyer to tell you what I’m already telling you?”
“I’m going to pay a lawyer whose interest is me.”
Daniel looked wounded.
For half a second, I almost hated myself for saying it.
Then I remembered the draft affidavit.
His eyes moved toward my mother.
Then my father.
Then back to me.
“We can figure this out without turning each other into enemies.”
I stared at him.
“We are not a we right now.”
His face went blank.
Behind him, the chapel had begun emptying.
Guests moved toward the doors in awkward clusters.
Some avoided looking at us.
Some didn’t.
A man I recognized from Daniel’s office stood near the aisle pretending to study his phone.
My cousin carried two crying children toward the lobby.
The quartet had packed away their instruments.
One violin case lay open on a chair while its owner wound a cable around her hand.
The wedding was becoming an event that had already happened.
Or failed to.
I watched people leave and felt something unexpectedly close to relief.
Not because I was safe.
I wasn’t sure what safe meant yet.
But the ceremony was no longer waiting for me.
No music would start.
No doors would open.
Nobody would expect me to walk anywhere.
Rachel came beside me.
“Megan says the reception venue needs an answer about food.”
I stared at her.
“What kind of answer?”
“Whether to serve it.”
The absurdity of the question almost made me laugh.
Eighty-seven dinners.
Paid for.
Prepared.
Waiting in warmers somewhere across town.
My mother wiped her face.
“Let them serve it.”
Rachel looked at me.
“You want to go?”
“No.”
My father said, “We can send everyone.”
I pictured our guests sitting beneath our initials eating salmon and mashed potatoes after watching the groom’s secret daughter get announced from the back of a chapel.
“No.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Donate what they can.”
Rachel nodded.
“I’ll ask.”
“Give the cake to the staff.”
My mother made a sound that was almost a laugh.
“Your aunt Linda will steal the top tier.”
“Let her.”
For three seconds, the three of us smiled.
It was terrible.
It was human.
Then Claire spoke behind me.
“Emily.”
I turned.
She looked uncertain now.
Smaller somehow.
“I should go.”
“Okay.”
She nodded.
Then she didn’t move.
“There’s something else.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“Claire, don’t.”
I looked at him.
Then at her.
“What?”
She reached into her purse.
Daniel moved before she had fully pulled the object out.
“Don’t give her that.”
My father stepped between them.
Claire held up her phone.
“I wasn’t going to.”
Daniel stopped.
Claire looked at me.
“I have messages.”
My stomach tightened.
“Between you and Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“How recent?”
She swallowed.
“Last night.”
For a second, the chapel seemed to tilt around the word.
Daniel’s expression changed before mine did.
That told me enough to be afraid of whatever was on her phone.
“What kind of messages?” I asked.
Claire looked at him.
He looked back at her.
Neither answered.
My father said, “Emily doesn’t need to do this here.”
I almost agreed.
Then Daniel said, “They’re out of context.”
That made the decision for me.
“Show me.”
“Emily.”
I held out my hand toward Claire.
“Please.”
She unlocked her phone.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
Daniel stepped forward.
“You’re really going to let her do this?”
I looked at him.
“Let her?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
He gestured toward Claire’s phone.
“This is private communication.”
“You keep having private things that somehow involve my life.”
He looked toward the nearly empty chapel.
“Can we at least go somewhere else?”
I thought about saying no just to hurt him.
Instead I looked at my parents.
“Give me a minute.”
My father didn’t like it.
I could see that immediately.
My mother touched his arm.
“Frank.”
He exhaled through his nose.
“We’ll be in the lobby.”
Rachel stayed where she was.
I looked at her.
She raised both eyebrows.
“What?”
“Go with them.”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“You are wearing a six-pound dress and have eaten half a banana since seven this morning.”
“I’m not going to faint.”
“That is exactly what people say before fainting.”
Despite everything, Claire gave a tiny laugh.
Rachel looked pleased with herself.
“See?”
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“This is ridiculous.”
Rachel turned toward him.
“I am one hundred percent staying now.”
I was too tired to argue.
Susan guided Evelyn toward a chair near the side aisle.
The old woman protested that she could walk on her own, but her knees had begun to shake.
Within a minute, the chapel had emptied except for the five of us.
The quiet afterward felt unnatural.
I could hear people talking in the lobby through the closed doors.
Someone laughed at something.
I envied them for having access to an ordinary sound.
Claire handed me her phone.
The message thread was open.
Daniel’s name sat at the top.
The most recent message had been sent at 11:47 the previous night.
It was from him.
Please don’t do anything tomorrow.
I read the line twice.
Then the next one.
Once we’re married, I can tell her in a way she’ll understand.
Claire’s reply came a minute later.
You keep saying that like marriage is going to make lying less bad.
Daniel had responded.
It changes the situation.
My chest tightened.
I scrolled.
Claire had written, For who?
His answer came five minutes later.
For everyone.
I stopped.
Daniel watched my face.
“You’re skipping context.”
I looked up at him.
“What context makes that better?”
“There had been a whole conversation before that.”
“So I’ll read it.”
His mouth tightened.
I scrolled upward.
The thread went back weeks.
Some messages were about Lily.
Pickup times.
A dentist appointment.
May you like
A school form.
One argument about whether Lily could attend a birthday party on Daniel’s weekend.
