Page 85 of Married to Lies

Setting down the pen and the agreement, I went to hug her again. “I know I’m marrying Quentin, but I’m so glad you’re the one by my side today.”

She rubbed my back just like she’d done to Twyla moments ago, and damn, it felt good. “I love you, Rei, have from the moment I met you.”

My heart warmed. “I thought love at first sight was just a fairy tale.”

“Whoever said that hasn’t met you.” She looked down at her daughter and brushed her fingers over Twyla’s silken hair. “Or my little girl.”

I smiled tearfully and stepped back to brush away more tears. I’d told the makeup artist I didn’t expect a lot of crying today, and thank God she still went with her waterproof supplies. We were off to a very watery start.

Gently, she said, “Let’s see what else he has for you.”

I went to the gift and took out the smaller box, wondering what could be inside. When I peeled back the wrapping, I found a square velvet box, too big for a ring or necklace. I opened it, finding a yellow sticky note hiding the contents.

This note had Quentin’s real handwriting.

I asked the jeweler to make a clip to match your ring. I know you love a theme. -Quentin

With a small chuckle, I pulled the note aside, revealing an ornately designed claw clip with diamonds and emeralds weaving up the side, an echo of my ring and yet beautiful all on its own.

My lip trembled as I stared at the clip.

Quentin. The strong, silent CFO who seemed so focused on work, who never opened up or even really looked my way, had been seeing me all this time.

Saying “I do” to a practical stranger was scary, objectively a crazy idea, but everything Quentin did made me want to say yes even more.

I held out the clip, showing Jada. “He had a clip made just for me... He noticed.”

She smiled at me, pure happiness in her eyes. It was the kind of expression that I’d never seen from my parents. The one that said I’m happy for you exactly as you are, not with any improvements or changes, and it nearly brought me to my knees.

“I know it’s not the typical way to find your person,” she said, “but I’m so happy you found yours.”

“I really did find my person,” I said softly, and she smiled like she knew exactly what I meant.

As I twisted my hair to put the clip in place, she went to put Twyla in her carrier so we could go to the wedding. To my wedding.

It still didn’t feel real, almost like I was playing dress up, as George drove us to the venue. Police cars blocked off the roads surrounding the tower, flashing lights atop their cars, only letting guests through. Anything was possible when money was no object.

But when the limo arrived at the back entrance to the ceremony space, a dozen or so chairs lined up in two separate sections, it all began to feel very real.

“Good luck,” Jada whispered. She squeezed my arm briefly before getting out of the car, wrapping Twyla in a blanket as she walked down the aisle with Quentin’s brother.

I could hear the music playing over speakers, but once the door was shut, I was alone again. Feeling my breath come quickly, I got out my phone and found a message from my mom.

Mom: Your father and I discussed it further, and we cannot in good conscience come to your wedding. A marriage is something sacred, a promise between two people and God. I may not have given birth to you, but I’m your mother. I’ve known you long enough to tell when you’re up to something that will end poorly. We’d never met or heard of Quentin before the recital, and we can’t in good faith go to a wedding knowing it can’t possibly be real. I love you, but I cannot support you in something so reckless and wrong. When you’re ready to do the right thing and tell me what this is all really about, you know where to find me.

My vision blurred as I stared at the words.

Logically, I understood her skepticism. And she was right, at least in part, that this wedding wasn’t “real.” But I wanted her to be there for me, even if she thought I was making a colossal mistake.

And yet she wasn’t. Neither was my dad.

I’d be walking down the aisle alone.

“You ready, kid?” George asked from the driver’s seat. At my expression, he turned in his seat and whispered, “Say the word and I’ll get you out of here.”

A teary laugh escaped me. “No, but there is something you can do for me...”

“Anything,” he told me, looking like he meant it with his whole heart.