Chapter 3

Every word landed like a blow against my heart.

They smashed five years of feeling to pieces, and left my heart in bloody shreds.

The first time I brought him home to meet my mother, he'd said it sincerely: Thank you for everything you've done, ma'am. From now on, let me be the one to take care of Faith.

And now he stood there sneering that the mother who'd struggled to raise me wasn't fit to be seen in public.

"If anyone here isn't fit to be seen, I'd say it's you!"

My maid of honor and best friend, Marjorie Sanchez, finally broke through the wall of groomsmen, eyes red, and rushed over to help me up.

"Hitting your bride at your own wedding, what kind of man does that make you?"

Roberta stood with her arms crossed, her face all challenge, though her voice still carried that little smile.

"Get your facts straight. Your friend shoved me first. Matthew just can't stand to see his buddy pushed around!"

My groom. Couldn't stand to see her pushed around, so he shoved me to the floor.

It turns out that when a heart goes cold to the very bottom, you really don't want to waste a single word.

I stopped looking at Matthew and pulled myself up on Marjorie's hand.

Phyllis came trotting over in small quick steps and wrapped her arms around Roberta.

"Roberta, sweetheart, did she frighten you? This is all that savage girl's fault, raised by a widow, what else could you expect."

Roberta hugged her back, easy and careless.

"Mom! I'm fine! Heh, Matthew's a good guy, he protected me."

Leon shot Phyllis a look.

"That's enough out of you too. Look where we are. Someone doesn't know how to behave. Do you not know either?"

Then he settled the commotion and sent us all to the dressing room backstage.

The emcee was pressing the bride and groom to get ready for the toasts.

Matthew came to stand in front of me and spoke like he was doing me a favor.

"You've made a real mess of things. First you go apologize to my parents and to Roberta, then we go do the toasts."

"No."

Anger flooded his face.

"No? Haven't we had enough chaos today? Stop being so difficult!"

Phyllis walked over, pulling Roberta along by the hand.

"Fine, then don't. It works just the same if Roberta comes and does the toasts instead."

"And it just so happens this can break that second-marriage fate too, isn't that right, Roberta?"

Roberta's little face flushed. She held down her excitement and nodded.

"Mom, Matthew and I have been friends all these years. I'm happy to help."

"This way we can break the second-marriage fate too."

Matthew stared at me, waiting for me to beg. He was braced and ready, so that the instant I said one word, he could jump in and turn it aside for me.

But I said nothing, as if none of it had anything to do with me.

The silence stretched out, awkward and heavy.

Matthew, shamed into fury, snapped, "Fine. Suit yourself!"

He turned and left with Roberta on his arm.

Marjorie gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze, then sent me a video.

"So many people recorded the ring exchange and the toast just now."

"Someone forwarded this one to me. Here, it's yours."

I opened it. So that was how I'd looked from the outside just now, that pathetic.

Roberta came out in the toasting gown I'd paid a fortune to have custom made.

She sauntered past me like she owned the place.

The very gown Matthew had told me needed alterations, the one I supposedly couldn't wear yet.

Turns out he'd sent it off ahead of time to be taken in to her measurements.

Matthew came out in his changed clothes and shot me a glance.

Seeing that I still wouldn't speak.

He tossed out a "You'll regret this,"

then turned, gave a little gentleman's bow, and held out his hand to Roberta.

Roberta put her hand in his, giggling.

"Honestly, Matthew, if it weren't for you I'd never wear something this girly."

"Don't be silly, you look gorgeous in it!"

The two of them walked hand in hand toward the guest tables, the picture of a perfect couple.

And I stopped hesitating.

I looked down, forwarded the video to my top pinned contact, and typed four words to send with it.

"Need a rescue."

The reply came in a second.

"What's going on?"

Two minutes later, another one.

"Watched it, and I'm furious! Give me half an hour. I'm bringing my grandfather too. Anyone who dares mess with me has gotten sick of living!"

"……"