Chapter 9 - The Crumbling Facade
Brandon turned on Lisa with an expression of sheer disgust. "Apologize."
Lisa gasped. "Brandon?! You want me to grovel to his kid?!"
"I want you to save this wedding," Brandon hissed, stepping so close to her that their faces were inches apart. "Do you have any idea what my parents are thinking right now? Do you realize that my father's business associates are sitting in their cars watching my bride beg at the front gate of a vineyard because she embezzled money I gave her for the venue?!"
"I didn't embezzle—"
"You lied to me!" Brandon shouted, finally losing his composure completely. The veneer of the calm, polished professional shattered. "You told me you handled the venue fourteen months ago! You let your brother front twelve grand while you flaunted diamond bracelets on Instagram! Apologize right now, or I swear to God I am getting back in that car, heading to the airport, and calling my lawyers to annul the marriage license we signed on Tuesday!"
A chorus of gasps rippled through the bridesmaids.
Lisa looked around, realizing that for the first time in her thirty-two years on earth, there was no escape route. Eleanor was looking away, unable to meet her gaze. The guests were murmuring, several of them recording video on their phones. Brandon’s parents were already walking back toward their vehicle, their posture signaling absolute, unmitigated contempt.
Lisa’s lower lip trembled. She turned slowly toward my truck.
I didn't move. I stood by the driver's door, watching her drag the heavy satin train of her four-thousand-dollar wedding gown across the dirt and gravel. Every step looked like agony to her.
She reached the passenger window. Caleb looked up, surprised to see his aunt standing outside, looking like a ghost in white lace with black mascara streaks running down her cheeks.
I tapped the glass, signaling Caleb to roll down the window. The glass slid down smoothly.
"Aunt Lisa?" Caleb asked, his small voice cutting through the heavy tension.
Lisa took a ragged breath. Her hands were balled into fists at her sides, her knuckles white. "Caleb... I’m... I’m sorry," she choked out, the words tasting like poison in her mouth. "Liam shouldn't have broken your toys. And I shouldn't have laughed. It wasn't funny."
Caleb blinked at her, innocent and straightforward. "It's okay, Aunt Lisa. Dad says when people are mean, it usually means they're sad inside."
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The silence that followed was suffocating. Several guests let out muffled coughs, trying to suppress their laughter at the brutal, unscripted honesty of a six-year-old child.
Lisa closed her eyes, tears spilling over. "I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered toward Eleanor without turning around. "I lied about the money."
