Chapter 8 - WHEN THE MUSIC STOPPED
At 9:42 p.m., the band packed up.
Not because I ordered them to.
Because nobody felt like dancing.
Guests left quietly. Her bridesmaids disappeared one by one. The wedding collapsed inward.
Daniel stood by the windows, tie loosened, jacket off.
I joined him.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I waited.
“For the cake?” I asked.
“For laughing.”
“That’s a start.”
He looked away. “I thought if I made light of it, everyone would move on.”
“Everyone except me.”
His jaw tightened.
“I’ve been doing that for years, haven’t I?”
“Yes.”
That answer hurt him. I did not soften it.
Behind us, Vanessa argued with Martin. “You had no right to dig through private planning documents.”
Martin replied, “They were attached to an email sent to Mrs. Mercer by mistake.”
That silenced her. Daniel turned. “What email?” I told him.
Three weeks earlier, Vanessa’s consultant had sent the draft to the wrong “E. Mercer.” I stayed quiet because I needed to know whether Daniel knew. Now I did.
He looked sick. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because every time I raised a concern about Vanessa, you accused me of being possessive.”
He flinched.
“That’s fair.”
“No. It was cruel.”
He nodded once.
Vanessa crossed the room toward us.
“So what happens now?” she demanded.
Daniel faced her.
“You tell me the truth.”
“I have.”
“All of it.”
She laughed bitterly. “You want honesty? Fine. Your mother controls too much of your life.”
I said nothing.
Vanessa pointed at me. “Your company survives because of her. Your wedding exists because of her. Your hotel suite belongs to her. You call that normal?”
Daniel stared at the floor.
Then he looked at me.
May you like
And asked the question I had feared.
“Mom… is she wrong?”
