Kate wrapped her arms around herself; she was shaking, and she couldn’t stop. She knew what Hadley was saying: It wouldn’t be fair of Kate to hold Conor responsible for something that had happened years before he’d met her. But a baby? How could he not have told her? Belinda’s revelation had been such a bombshell; she should have talked to him right then, heard him out, but she’d gone straight into shock. Now she was ready.
“You’re shivering,” Hadley said. “Are you cold?”
Kate nodded. “Isn’t that weird? On this beautiful summer day?”
“It’s the salt breeze coming through the door,” Hadley said, although Kate knew that wasn’t true. She watched Hadley cross the room, start the cozy fire. It blazed in the hearth the way it had the Christmas Eve before last.
“What time is it?” Kate asked.
Hadley glanced at the screen of her mobile phone. “Almost noon,” she said.
Kate closed her eyes. “Our wedding is supposed to start in five hours.”
“It still could, Kate,” Hadley said.
Kate knew that Hadley was right—they could still get married. They could wipe the slate clean and start life over right now. She and Conor had chased away plenty of demons in their time together. But this one was different.
“Not till I talk to him,” Kate said.
Hadley looked at her long and hard, then reached over and gave her a hug.
Kate glanced across the living room atFoggy Night. When Belinda fell, she had broken the frame and torn the canvas. There was a long vertical tear, straight through the ghostly lighthouse that James Suydam had so poetically painted. One of the Ocean House staff had delivered it here last night, after the rehearsal dinner’s awful end.
“I want to take the painting upstairs,” Kate said. “I’ll wrap it up so Maeve can take it to the conservator.”
“I’m glad you’re going to keep it,” Hadley said. “And I hope Conor is there so you can talk this out.”
“So do I,” Kate said. She hoped she would find him there. It was an unbreakable habit—to love him so much and be excited about seeing him. This time it was tempered by a million other feelings. She wanted to yell at him, make him tell her what went on between him and Belinda. She felt humiliated by last night’s scene, but that was nothing compared to feeling betrayed by Conor.
She stood to go, lifted the painting as carefully as she could to avoid damaging it further. Hadley followed her to the door, and Kate saw her pick up her key card from the table in the foyer.
“Where are you going?” Kate asked.
“Up to the Tower Suite, with you,” Hadley said.
“You don’t have to,” Kate said.
“Yes, I do. I’m sticking with you,” Hadley said.
Kate didn’t feel like arguing. They walked to the beautiful old elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor. The door slid open, and they headed to the Tower Suite. Now Kate’s heart was really racing. Conor had to be there, waiting for her. She imagined facing him, him assuring her that Belinda had been lying. Both of them wishing they could go back twenty-four hours, go back to the way they’d been before last night.
She unlocked the door, stepped into the foyer, and called his name. She listened for his footsteps upstairs on the suite’s main floor, for him running down to hug her.
But nothing. It was silent. Conor wasn’t there.
She tried to hide how upset she felt from Hadley, but that was impossible. She walked into the bedroom, the blue accents bringing the sky and ocean inside. Housekeeping had made the bed, straightened up the room so well it looked as if she and Conor had never even stayed there at all.
The closet loomed straight ahead. Her palms felt sweaty; she put the painting on the bed. Then she went to the closet. She stood in front of the closed door for several long seconds. She knew her wedding gown was inside, hanging in its garment bag. She thought of how much she loved the dress, how exquisite the fabric and details.
She took a deep breath, pulled the closet door open, and looked inside.
It was gone. There was no sign of the garment bag, of the dress, of anything to remind her of the fact that she was supposed to get married today. Until she got upstairs and saw her veil, cut into a million tinypieces. She gasped and ran to it, trying to gather all the shreds, as if she could put them back together.
She heard a knock on the suite’s door.
“I’ll get it,” Hadley said.
Kate didn’t know who it could be, and she was too stunned by Conor’s absence, the empty closet, and the destroyed veil to really care. Then, through the fog in her mind, she heard Maeve’s voice. It was high and wild, and the words Maeve cried rang in Kate’s ears.
