Chương 9
He said nothing.
I rubbed the bridge of my nose.
“I’m not avoiding this forever.”
“Then when?”
“After we know whether the dress can be saved.”
“What does the dress have to do with talking?”
“Everything.”
Dad made a frustrated sound.
“It’s fabric.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“You saw Emily’s face.”
He went quiet.
“You know what that dress means to her.”
“I know.”
“No, you know the facts.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Maybe not.”
He lowered his voice.
“Your mother is terrified.”
“Of me leaving?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Emily.
She was reading something on her laptop now, giving me privacy without leaving the room.
“I’m not leaving the family.”
“That is not how it feels.”
“Then maybe everyone needs to sit with that feeling for a while.”
Dad breathed slowly into the phone.
“Your mother doesn’t do well with uncertainty.”
I almost laughed.
Neither did Emily.
The difference was that nobody rearranged the world to save Emily from hers.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He did not like it, but he accepted it.
At five-thirty, Emily and I walked to a small Thai restaurant two blocks from Rachel’s apartment.
We sat near the window.
A toddler at the next table dropped a spoon four times and celebrated each recovery like a miracle.
Emily ordered too much food.
I did not stop her.
For almost twenty minutes, we talked about nothing connected to the wedding.
A movie we had both hated.
The apartment Rachel wanted to move into.
Whether we could afford a new couch after the honeymoon.
It felt ordinary.
Precious in the least dramatic way.
Then Emily’s phone buzzed.
She had turned notifications back on for her father.
She glanced down.
Her face changed.
“What?”
She turned the screen toward me.
It was a message from Grandma.
Please don’t respond to anyone yet.
Ashley told your mother she has something important to tell all of us tonight.
I read it twice.
Emily watched me.
“What could she possibly have to tell them?”
I set the phone on the table.
“I don’t know.”
For once, that was true.
Ten minutes later, Nathan called.
I answered before the second ring.
His voice came fast.
“You need to know this before Mom calls you.”
“What happened?”
“Ashley says Emily threatened her before she threw the dress.”
I stood so abruptly the table shook.
Emily grabbed her water glass.
“What?”
Nathan continued.
“She says Emily cornered her upstairs and told her she’d make sure nobody in the family spoke to her again if she touched the dress.”
I looked at Emily.
She had heard enough from my side to understand.
Her face drained of color.
“That never happened.”
I knew.
Before I could answer, Nathan said, “There’s more.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What?”
“She says the video proves she was scared of Emily.”
I looked out the restaurant window at people walking past with grocery bags and dogs and coffee cups.
For the first time since the pool, the conflict shifted beneath my feet.
Ashley was no longer trying to escape consequences.
She was building a version of events in which she had needed protection.
And somewhere back at my parents’ house, my mother was listening.
I ended the call and sat down slowly.
Emily did not touch her food.
“What exactly is she saying?”
I repeated Nathan’s words as carefully as I could.
Emily listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she stared at the bowl in front of her.
“She’s lying.”
“I know.”
“I never cornered her.”
“I know.”
“I barely spoke to her upstairs.”
“I know.”
She looked at me then.
“Stop saying that.”
I stopped.
The waiter passed our table carrying a tray of iced teas.
At the next table, the toddler dropped the spoon again.
Nobody celebrated this time.
Emily folded her napkin into smaller and smaller squares.
“What happened upstairs?” I asked.
She took a breath.
“I went in to get my earrings.”
“Okay.”
“She was standing by the garment bag.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Please don’t touch that.’”
“Anything else?”
“She said she was just looking.”
Emily’s fingers stopped moving.
“I told her I wasn’t trying to be rude, but it was important to me.”
“That’s it?”
“She asked why I kept acting like she was going to ruin everything.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did you say?”
“I said, ‘Because you keep touching things after I ask you not to.’”
She looked away.
“And then?”
“She called me controlling.”
“Did you threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did you mention the family?”
“No.”
“Did you say nobody would speak to her?”
“No.”
I believed her before the first answer.
I also knew belief was no longer the only thing that mattered.
“What happened after that?”
“I left.”
“Immediately?”
“Pretty much.”
“Where did you go?”
“Downstairs.”
“Who saw you?”
She frowned.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
Emily looked irritated now.
“Michael, I wasn’t collecting witnesses.”
“I know.”
She pushed her bowl away.
“I went through the kitchen.”
“Was Mom there?”
“I think your aunt was.”
“Diane?”
“Maybe.”
“Anyone else?”
She closed her eyes.
“Nathan was by the refrigerator.”
That mattered.
Not because it proved what happened inside the room.
Because it gave us timing.
I took out my phone.
Emily watched me.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t turn this into an investigation at dinner.”
I lowered the phone.
“You’re right.”
“I don’t want to spend the next five days proving I’m not secretly horrible.”
“You shouldn’t have to.”
“Then don’t make me.”
Her voice was sharper than usual.
I felt my own defensiveness rise.
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From your sister, your mother, your entire family, the wedding, the dress, the rumors?”
She laughed without humor.
“That’s a lot of protection.”
“I didn’t create this.”
The sentence came out before I could stop it.
Emily went still.
I immediately regretted it.
“No,” she said.
“You didn’t.”
She reached for her purse.
“Emily.”
“I’m going outside.”
I stood.
“Can I come?”
May you like
“No.”
She left cash beneath her water glass even though I had already paid at the counter.
