Chapter 3
Ethan turned his phone toward me.
Vanessa had written the email herself. She asked the photographer to make sure I was kept out of group shots, especially pictures that included her parents and the bridal party.
She also asked whether my scars could be softened if I appeared in the background.
The photographer had replied that she photographed people as they were. She suggested they talk to me directly about any pictures I did or did not want.
Vanessa never answered.
“Two weeks,” I said.
Ethan nodded. “She had two weeks to tell me. She had two weeks to tell you.”
I handed the phone back.
I could understand a frightened thought spoken once and regretted. Vanessa had planned around my absence. Then she had come to my door and asked me to agree to it.
“Are you still getting married on Saturday?” I asked.
“I love her,” Ethan said.
“I know.”
“I also don’t understand who she’s been this week.”
I pushed the invitation toward him.
“You don’t have to decide for my sake. You do have to decide knowing what happened.”
He looked at the gold lettering.
“Her mother keeps saying the venue matters more than this argument.”
“Mom helped create the argument.”
“I told her that.”
He gave a tired laugh that did not sound happy. Then he stood.
“I’ll call you when I know what we’re doing.”
After he left, I went into my bedroom and took the silver gift box from the table. I placed it in a drawer.
The bracelet had belonged to our grandmother before it belonged to me. She used to tell Vanessa and me to hold each other’s hands when we crossed busy streets.
We had grown older. Somehow I was still expected to do the holding.
Renee arrived with soup and bread. I told her about the email.
“She wanted you erased from the pictures,” Renee said.
“Yes.”
“And you kept paying bills while she planned it.”
I looked at my hands. “I thought the wedding was bringing us closer.”
“You were trying to give her something beautiful.”
“I made it easy for her to ask for more.”
Renee shook her head. “You offered a gift. What she did with your kindness is hers to answer for.”
That night, my mother came alone.
I opened the door but did not invite her in. She glanced down the hallway, as if worried a neighbor might hear.
“Vanessa is falling apart,” she said.
“Then go to her.”
“I have been with her all day. I came to ask you to call Willowmere.”
“The date is gone.”
Mom’s face changed.
“It can’t be.”
“It is.”
She gripped her purse. “Do you know what people will say?”
“I’ve heard what you think they say when they look at me.”
Her eyes flicked toward my cheek.
“I was speaking badly yesterday,” she said. “I was trying to keep everyone calm.”
“You told me to stay home.”
“I said we would save you cake.”
“I remember.”
Mom’s voice softened. “Claire, I know the fire changed your life.”
“It did.”
“It changed Vanessa’s too.”
I leaned against the doorframe. “She was frightened. I know that better than anyone.”
“Then you understand why photographs bring it all back.”
“She can tell me that. She can ask for a few photographs with just Ethan. She cannot ask me to hide and then expect me to pay for the party.”
Mom pressed a hand to her forehead.
“What do you want from us?”
“I want you to stop pretending I imagined what happened.”
She said nothing.
I closed the door before either of us could say something only meant to wound.
The next morning, I went to work. I run a small accounting office with a staff of three. I had planned to take Friday off to help set up at Willowmere. Instead, I sat at my desk while numbers moved across my screen without meaning.
At noon, my coworker Priya knocked.
“Your sister is downstairs.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Is she alone?”
“With a woman I think is your mother.”
I asked Priya to let them into the empty meeting room. I did not want my staff caught in the middle.
Vanessa stood as soon as I entered.
“Ethan is talking about postponing,” she said.
“That’s his decision.”
“He said he won’t marry me until I apologize.”
I pulled out a chair but did not sit. “Then talk to him.”
“I need you to tell him you’re okay.”
“I’m not okay.”
“You’ve always been stronger than me.”
The words landed strangely. Vanessa had used them often since the fire. Strong meant I could handle pain she did not want to acknowledge.
“I’m tired of being strong for both of us,” I said.
Mom stepped forward. “Claire, please. We can still have a family dinner after the ceremony.”
“Where?”
“At home, if we have to.”
“And am I allowed in the photographs?”
Mom looked at Vanessa.
Vanessa’s eyes filled. “You know I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“You wrote it to the photographer two weeks ago.”
Her face went pale.
Ethan had confronted her with the email. She knew I had seen it.
“I was scared,” she said.
“Of me?”
“Of remembering.”
I wanted to hear more. Then my office phone rang, and Priya opened the meeting room door.
“Claire, sorry. It’s Lena at Willowmere. She says it’s urgent.”
I took the call at my desk.
Lena’s voice was tight.
“Vanessa contacted our new client and told them the date was hers. They’re frightened we’ve booked the same room twice.”
I looked through the glass wall at my sister.
“She’s here with me,” I said. “I’ll speak to her.”
I hung up and returned to the meeting room.
“Vanessa, did you call the couple who booked Willowmere?”
“I found their number through a friend,” she said.
“What did you tell them?”
“That I had a wedding there on Saturday.”
“You don’t.”
“I was trying to save it.”
I stared at her. The other couple had done nothing wrong. They had accepted an available date.
“You need to call Lena and correct what you said,” I told her.
May you like
Vanessa’s mouth trembled.
“I thought you might care more if strangers were involved.”
