Part 13
“She was wrong,” Amelie said.
Poppy looked at her.
“Was she?”
Amelie’s throat moved.
“For a long time, maybe. But she was wrong about what has to happen next.”
Gabriel looked at Amelie.
Her mother looked at her too.
No one spoke for several seconds.
Then Amelie’s mother said, “I can call someone to find Marin.”
Gabriel’s body tightened.
“No.”
The woman looked at him.
“She may need help.”
“I know.”
“Then why not?”
“Because I don’t know who she trusts.”
The woman’s face went still.
Gabriel continued, “And I don’t want another person with power deciding where she should go.”
Amelie looked at him.
For the first time that evening, her expression softened.
Not forgiveness.
Recognition.
Gabriel looked down at Poppy.
“What did your mom tell you to do after you found me?” he asked.
The child sniffed.
“She said to ask you a question.”
“What question?”
Poppy looked at Amelie.
Then at Gabriel.
“She said to ask why you never came when she called.”
The words went through him like a blade.
Gabriel closed his eyes.
He remembered calls.
Not clearly at first. Then too clearly.
Unknown numbers. Messages left during meetings. A receptionist saying someone named Marin had called twice. His father’s assistant asking whether he wanted personal messages forwarded. Gabriel saying no, not while he was traveling.
He had not known she was pregnant.
But he had known she was trying to reach him.
He had told himself he was respecting her silence.
Maybe he had simply made it easier to live with his own.
“I should have called her back,” he said.
Poppy looked at him.
“Yes.”
Amelie’s mother turned away.
Amelie stayed still.
Gabriel felt the shame in his chest, old and dense. He had wanted the story to contain one villain. His father, perhaps. Or whoever had locked Poppy behind the ivory door.
But he had been part of the silence too.
Not through cruelty.
Through avoidance.
Through every choice not to look more closely.
“I was scared too,” he told Poppy.
The child looked puzzled.
“Of what?”
“Of being needed.”
Amelie’s breath caught.
Gabriel continued because there was no use stopping now.
“I thought if I kept working and kept moving, I could avoid hurting people. But I hurt them anyway.”
Poppy’s small hand rested against his cheek.
“Mommy said you might say that.”
He looked at her.
“She did?”
“She said you were good at being sorry after things happened.”
The words were quiet.
They hurt more than anger would have.
Amelie looked down at her hands.
Gabriel did not defend himself.
He had no defense that would not sound like another delay.
“I want to do better,” he said.
Poppy looked toward the floral arch.
“Are you still getting married?”
The question returned to the center of the room.
Amelie’s mother looked at her daughter.
Gabriel looked at Amelie.
The bride stood slowly from the sofa. Her ivory gown caught the warm light from the courtyard. The flowers outside seemed almost luminous now, but the sight of them no longer made Gabriel think of a future. It made him think of a promise waiting to become either honest or impossible.
Amelie walked to the arch.
She stood beneath it alone.
The empty chairs faced her.
The strings of lights swayed above her.
Gabriel carried Poppy into the courtyard and stopped several feet away.
Amelie looked at him.
“I can’t marry you tonight,” she said.
The words were calm.
They still made his chest tighten.
“I know,” he said.
Poppy looked at him.
“Why?”
Gabriel kissed the top of her head.
“Because getting married is a promise. And we need to understand what promises mean before we make one.”
The child thought about that.
Amelie watched him.
“Do you want to marry her later?” Poppy asked.
Gabriel looked at Amelie.
He could not answer with certainty. Not tonight. Not while the past had walked into the courtyard and placed a child in his arms.
“I hope I can earn the chance,” he said.
Amelie’s eyes filled.
Poppy looked at her.
“Do you want to marry him later?”
Amelie gave a small, sad laugh.
“You ask hard questions.”
“My mommy says questions are important.”
“She’s right.”
Amelie turned toward Gabriel.
“I don’t know,” she said.
The answer was fair.
It was also devastating.
Gabriel nodded.
“I understand.”
Amelie looked at Poppy.
“But I know you should not have been alone today.”
Poppy’s eyes welled up again.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
“You won’t be,” Amelie said.
The words held a kind of force that made Gabriel look at her.
She had lost the wedding. She had been made into suspicion. Her mother had admitted to helping push Marin away. She had every reason to step back from the mess that had arrived in the center of her life.
Instead, she was standing under the flowers and making a promise to a child she barely knew.
Maybe that was why Gabriel had wanted to marry her.
Not because she made him feel better about himself.
Because she saw what mattered when everything else became inconvenient.
From inside the villa came a sudden sound.
A door closing.
Not loudly.
But sharply enough that all of them turned.
Poppy froze against Gabriel.
“The lady,” she whispered.
Gabriel’s heart began to beat harder.
“What lady?”
“She’s here.”
Amelie looked toward the corridor.
The ivory door was visible at the far end.
It stood open.
No one was there.
Amelie’s mother took a step forward.
“Poppy, are you sure?”
The child shook her head quickly.
“She said she would come back.”
Gabriel held her tighter.
“What did she say she would do?”
Poppy’s mouth trembled.
“She said Daddy would have to choose.”
Amelie went still.
Gabriel looked down at the child.
“Choose what?”
Poppy looked toward the villa doors.
Then up at him.
“She said you would have to choose between me and the lady in white.”
The warm courtyard seemed to go cold.
Amelie’s face changed, not with anger this time, but with something close to grief.
Gabriel looked at her.
“No one gets to make that choice for me.”
Poppy stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means you are not something I choose instead of someone else.”
The child’s eyes widened.
Amelie watched him carefully.
Gabriel continued, his voice unsteady but clear.
“You are a person. You are my daughter if what your mother told you is true, and I will find out what happened to her. I will not leave you alone. But no one gets to turn you into a weapon against Amelie.”
Poppy looked at the bride.
Amelie’s eyes filled.
The child whispered, “She said you would hate me.”
Amelie walked closer.
Poppy stiffened.
Amelie stopped a few steps away.
“I don’t hate you,” she said.
The child’s face crumpled.
“I ruined your wedding.”
“No,” Amelie said. “Something happened to you. That is not the same thing.”
Gabriel felt the words move through him.
He would remember them.
He knew that.
Poppy rubbed at her eyes.
“Mommy said I should tell you something else.”
Gabriel’s body tightened.
“What?”
The child looked toward the open villa doors.
The night had deepened outside the estate. The vineyard had become a black sweep beneath the stars. The floral arch glowed in the string lights, beautiful and empty.
Poppy’s voice was barely more than a breath.
“She said the lady in white took Mommy’s calls.”
Amelie went perfectly still.
Gabriel felt the child’s words enter the space between them.
“What did you say?” he asked.
Poppy looked at Amelie.
Her frightened eyes searched the bride’s face.
“The lady told Mommy not to call you.”
Amelie’s lips parted.
“I never spoke to your mother.”
Poppy’s expression tightened.
“She said you did.”
Amelie looked at Gabriel.
The silence around them grew enormous.
Gabriel held Poppy closer, his voice low and urgent.
“Poppy, listen to me. Did your mom say Amelie’s name?”
The child opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Her eyes shifted past Gabriel’s shoulder.
May you like
Toward the open ivory door.
And someone in the villa began to clap.
