Part 12
“I was grieving too.”
“That does not make it better.”
“No,” Anne said. “It doesn’t.”
Mason looked at Wren.
The child’s eyes opened slowly.
“Who is she?” she whispered.
Celeste crouched near them.
“This is my mother,” she said.
Wren looked at Anne.
Anne looked back.
For a second, no one spoke.
Then Wren said, “Did you know my mommy?”
Anne’s breath caught.
“I met her once.”
“Was she sad?”
Anne looked toward the darkening vineyard.
“Yes,” she said. “She was.”
Wren rested her head against Mason again.
“I don’t like when Mommy is sad.”
Mason felt something close around his chest.
Anne took one step forward, then stopped.
“I am sorry,” she said.
Wren did not answer.
The child had heard adults apologize before. Mason could tell by the way she did not react as if the words had power.
Elliot approached from the dining hall.
He was Mason’s older brother by four years, broad-shouldered and impatient, wearing a tuxedo that looked uncomfortable because Elliot disliked any clothing that required him to pretend he was not angry.
“What is going on?” he asked.
Mason looked at him.
“Not now.”
“Everyone is asking.”
“Let them ask.”
Elliot’s eyes moved to Wren.
Then to the folders in Celeste’s hands.
“What did Dad do?”
The question came too fast.
Mason stared at him.
Elliot’s face changed.
“What?” he said.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“You asked what Dad did.”
“Because I know that look on your face.”
“What look?”
“The one you got when he was alive and something had gone wrong.”
Mason had not expected the fight to arrive so quickly. He had not wanted it in front of Wren. But anger did not wait for good conditions.
Elliot looked toward the guests.
“Not here.”
“Where, then?”
“Mason.”
“Did you know?”
Elliot’s jaw tightened.
“I knew Dad had paid someone.”
The courtyard seemed to tilt.
Celeste stood up slowly.
Mason’s voice went low.
“What someone?”
“I don’t know. A woman. Years ago.”
“Nora.”
Elliot looked at Wren.
Then back at Mason.
“I didn’t know about a child.”
“But you knew he paid her.”
“I knew he called it a settlement.”
“For what?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“And you didn’t ask?”
Elliot laughed once, without humor.
“Have you met our father?”
Mason took a step forward.
Celeste put one hand lightly against his arm.
Not to stop him.
To remind him Wren was there.
Elliot saw the gesture and looked away.
“He told me to handle a transfer,” Elliot said. “That was it. He said it was personal. He said the woman had agreed to stay out of the family.”
Mason’s body went still.
“Stay out of the family.”
Elliot looked at Wren.
“I didn’t know.”
“You never know,” Mason said.
The words came out harsher than he intended.
Elliot flinched.
Then his face hardened.
“You think you’re the only one Dad lied to?”
“No,” Mason said. “I think I’m the one who should have asked why a woman I loved disappeared and someone in our family paid her to stay gone.”
The silence around them thickened.
Guests began moving farther away. Mrs. Vann quietly directed the wedding planner toward the dining hall. No one wanted to witness brothers turning old family damage into public conversation.
Celeste’s mother stood near the villa wall, looking suddenly older.
Elliot ran a hand through his hair.
“Dad said she was trying to trap you.”
Mason stared at him.
“Did you believe that?”
“I didn’t know her.”
“You didn’t need to.”
“I was twenty-eight. Dad gave me a folder and told me it was handled.”
Mason looked down at Wren.
She was watching Elliot now.
The girl looked frightened.
Mason took a breath.
“Go inside,” he said.
Elliot did not move.
“Go inside.”
His brother’s face tightened.
Then he turned and walked away.
The courtyard felt quieter after he left.
Celeste looked at Mason.
“This cannot happen here,” she said.
He knew she meant more than the argument.
The whole estate had become a pressure chamber. Guests were whispering. Their parents had become part of the story. The child was exhausted. The wedding arch stood in the middle of it all like an accusation.
Mason looked at Mrs. Vann.
“Is there a private room near the courtyard?”
“The south sitting room.”
Celeste nodded.
“We’ll go there.”
The south sitting room overlooked the vineyard through tall glass doors. It was quieter than the bridal suite, furnished with cream sofas and old walnut tables. A fire had been laid but not lit, because the evening was still warm. Someone had set out sparkling water and trays of untouched hors d’oeuvres before the ceremony.
Mason sat on the far end of a sofa with Wren curled against him.
She had fallen asleep within minutes.
May you like
He did not move.
He was afraid the slightest shift would wake her and bring back the crying.
