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John and his parents mending fences and reconnecting came on the heels of a devastating situation that made John, his brothers, and his parents unexpectedly learn that life is too short for judgments and indifference regarding the ones closest to you.
When John’s eldest brother, Sebastian, was on a business trip to Rome, his wife, Melissa, went out shopping with friends for the day, leaving their daughter with the nanny. Sadly, Melissa’s Uber driver was intoxicated, and they crashed. The driver was in a coma for over a month, but Melissa Aster passed away the following day in the hospital.
The devastating events were bittersweet. Bitter in the sense that a husband and little girl were left without their spouse and mother—something I could only imagine was the most devasting experience anyone could have—but it was sweet only in the sense that it brought a very broken family back to each other again.
John wasn’t as close to his parents as he was before our breakup, but he was thankful that he was no longer estranged from his family. The tragic events surrounding Sebastian losing his wife caused a ripple effect on the entire Aster Family. Mr. and Mrs. Aster resumed their donations to Saint John’s, they created a memorial for Melissa in Upstate New York, where her family originated, and they spent more time on the West Coast while working with Jim on various investment opportunities.
John remained guarded with his parents, keeping firm boundaries and rejecting their offer to purchase our marital home from his trust fund. When they concluded that he wasn’t going to budge and let them hold him hostage with money, they relinquished the entirety of his trust fund to him, something neither of us expected. Regardless of the money, we decided to buy an understated home in a quiet suburb of L.A. instead of purchasing a mansion somewhere in Beverly Hills like the one he had before. It just wasn’t me, and John’s only concern was that the area was safe and had a big kitchen with a fancy stove for him to work his magic on.
All of that now behind us, and back to the present day, John and I were set to say our vows under the canopy of stately trees in the most beautiful and private cliffside beach garden in all of California.
The venue was small. Our friends from Aspen—Jake and Ash, Jim and Avery, Collin and Elena—my sister and parents, and John’s parents and brother Mark were the only attendees. Sebastian was still too lost in grief to attend, which was completely understandable, and Aunt Bev was on location in Argentina, no doubt seducing Latin lovers for miles around.
“My goodness, you look as beautiful as the day you were born,” my mom said, entering the room. “But you have only one hour to go and are still in lounge clothes?”
I chuckled. “Well, I spent so much of my efforts trying to find this perfect place,” I said, sipping the hot tea that was given to me to relax my nerves in the adorable cottage where I was dressing for the wedding, “and I forgot to pick out a dress.”
“That’s why I’m here,” my sister laughed. “Okay, the final adjustments were made, and the dress should fit like a glove.”
“I still can’t believe you designed this for me,” I said, hugging her.
“Well, I will admit,” my sister said, having just opened a boutique of her own clothing designs, “it’s my first big piece, and you’re my first picky-as-hell client, but this baby came out gorgeous. Now, get naked, and let’s get you into this.”
The exquisite strapless gown was crafted with luxurious cream-colored satin gracefully cinched at the waist. It fell into a voluminous floor-length skirt with delicate embellishments of pearl beading that offered a touch of timeless elegance.
“God, you look ravishing,” Lydia said while my mother gasped as I walked out in front of the mirror to see the final product. “I’m glad you let me go strapless. It enhances your neckline and accentuates your shoulders.”
I was in awe of my sister’s design, which someone might think was plain, but how she designed it to hug every curve made this dress stunning—and me, too.
My hair was loosely curled and pulled to the side, my auburn locks cascading over my shoulder and touching the top of the bodice. The brown in my hair and the ivory of the dress enhanced the tanned glow of my skin, and while I wasn’t someone to gawk at myself, I was blown away by my appearance.
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “Thank you so much for making me so beautiful,” I said, turning and laughing while I hugged Lydia.
“What would you do without me?” she asked with a laugh.
My mother was walking over to give her praises when a soft knock was heard at the door.
“Dad must be here to gather you early,” my mom said, knowing he was the only one who would come to the bridal cottage close to an hour before the wedding bells would start to ring.
“Oh,” I heard my mother say. “May I help you?”
I turned, and my eyes fell on the exquisite appearance of Margot Aster, accompanied only by her resting bitch face, which didn’t faze me in the slightest anymore.
“How do you do? I’m Margot Aster,” she said in her sophisticated voice. “Would you mind if I came in and joined you in marveling at the beautiful bride?”
“Come in,” I said with a smile.
I didn’t mind being around Margot even though she was cruel to me in Monaco. The woman was still overly formal, making snide remarks regularly and exerting her dominance when she felt threatened. She was a wealthy bitch, to put it bluntly; however, she and I got along for the most part. All was well if she didn’t come into my territory and I didn’t go into hers. Both of us seemed to have the same personality if we weren’t kissing each other’s asses, and due to that, we could handle a good hour or two of each other’s company.
Let’s just say we were working on forming an amicable relationship. Still, I wasn’t nominating her for mother-in-law of the year, and she wasn’t telling everyone in her circle about how her son married a lovely hillbilly from Tennessee. Margot Aster was Margot Aster; you either loved her or hated her. For me, I chose to remain neutral. I would honor a mother’s wishes to ensure her son was happily married, but that’s pretty much it. I wasn’t trying to do more or less with Margot; that was the safest place to be with a woman like her.
“You look positively enchanting,” she said, smiling at me, catching my shoulders and kissing the air next to my cheeks. “However, I believe I have something that would pull this entire piece together?”
She looked at Lydia, who was smiling at Margot’s cordiality.
“That’s if the amazing designer will allow it?” she asked.
My mom remained silent, watching the exchange after having heard plenty of gossip about the woman who was a ruthless bitch to her daughter. My mother was not easily impressed and would never kiss an ass, even if you put honey barbeque sauce on it and called it a dish. Mom was a tough nut to crack, but she wouldn’t ruin this day for me even though I knew Margot was the last person she’d ever care to be in the room with.
