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“We’ll be okay, Mister Taylor,” she assured.
“Jordan,” he corrected instantly. “Okay, kiddo, but I’ll be just outside.”
As the door closed, Ivy watched a slow, subtle transformation in the woman before her. She no longer stood so tall, her glare no longer held such hatred.
“You cancelled your wedding because you knew I was in danger. You could have kept quiet. You didn’t need to tell anyone. God knows after everything I—” She stopped abruptly, moving to the small table, helping herself to the glass of champagne on the table, not even bothered that it was from a glass someone else’s lips had touched.
“I know you don’t think much of me, Mrs Taylor, but I don’t wish you ill.”
“I was wrong,” she muttered quietly, so quietly it almost went unheard through the barrier of the glass as she drained the golden fluid into her mouth. “You know, I was disgusted by what you went through, what you did. I couldn’t see you weren’t willing, weren’t asking for it. You were always just the girl who wanted to take my boy away.
“But… I understand now. A few hours. That’s how long she kept me in that small room before I told her everything she wanted to know. Before I felt my resolve shatter.
“She planned to use me as a bargaining tool. She’d seen me help with the wedding plans, seen you invite me over those times when you made me talk with Miles and try to repair our relationship. When she found out I’d been the one sending her the photos, that I’d not had any contact with…” As if sensing Ivy couldn’t bear to hear his name, Mrs Taylor seemed to swallow it with another mouthful of champagne, this time from a glass marked with Becca’s ruby lipstick. “She just left me there. Saying she’d use me to take away the person you love the most.
“Those four walls… I thought they’d be the last thing I saw. I panicked. For who knows how long I was gripped with fear like nothing I had known. I would have done anything for someone to hear my screams, for someone to find me. It was then I understood. Understood how strong you were. How much you survived. She had me for a few days and I just keep seeing those walls closing in. You endured worse for weeks, months.
“I treated you like filth, made you feel disgusted by what you did to survive. But I’ll tell you this, I couldn’t have survived what you did. And I know I couldn’t have given up everything to save the woman who did everything she could to destroy me and my relationship.” She kept her gaze away from Ivy, never once daring to look at her as she spoke, as she poured her heart out, offering a depth and honesty she thought she’d never hear.
Ivy reached forward hesitantly, seeing Mrs Taylor’s vulnerability. “It gets easier. The memories, the feeling of being trapped. The shame. It gets easier to carry. You know how to carry yourself, Mrs Taylor. Fake it until you make it.” Mrs Taylor looked up at her in surprise as Ivy’s hand came to rest over hers. “Leave the past there, move forward. Now, you have a lunch to get ready for, and no offence, you look in need of an unwind. The spa’s open. Why don’t you have a massage, relax, and join us for lunch?”
“Actually,” Mrs Taylor drew out the word, looking at her small gold watch, “I have a better idea.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Ivy turned in a full circle, the weight of her dress swishing around her gracefully as she moved, scanning the room that bustled with people. This was what a Disney princess must feel like, how Cinderella must have felt when being dressed for the ball by her fairy Godmother. And just like Cinderella, something was clearly missing, something which was what caused her to spring from her seat, much to the hairdresser’s annoyance. “Where are my boots?”
“Stay still, I need to finish your hair,” scolded the hairdresser, guiding Ivy back to the seat before the mirror, the impatience flashing only briefly at the number of times she’d had to reseat the bride. She returned to her task, while another woman swiped some blush across her cheeks, barking orders at Ivy on where to look, eyes open, eyes closed as she was pulled and poked in all directions.
Mrs Taylor had made a few quick calls, and suddenly, the cancelled wedding was back on, and the lunch was delayed for an hour in order to see the couple down the aisle. Becca dropped to her knees, placing the white ankle boots on her feet, fastening the burgundy laces as Ivy blew at the stray strands of hair, disturbing the gown covering her dress.
“Aah, the slipper fits,” Becca teased, fastening a bow that looked far more elegant than any lopsided knot she could have done. How was it even possible to tie a shoelace to look like that?
Mrs Taylor had organised another registrar. From the second she had her idea, all stations were go. Quite frankly, Ivy couldn’t believe this woman was actually helping her. She kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this to be revealed as yet another horrible manipulation.
“Becca, you need to get changed, and Penny!” Ivy fretted, panic welling as she realised she was the only one getting ready.
“Penny’s ready, I just need to change. You okay, Vee?”
“Please get dressed. I need you ready to walk me down the aisle.”
The woman who was waiting to do Becca’s makeup pushed herself up off the wall. “I don’t think so, no offence, lady, I got this covered.” She gestured over herself, before slipping into the adjoining room.
Her heart was pounding. People fussed and prodded, hustled and bustled with noise flooding the air, and then, in the space of a breath, a great calm washed over the room.
Becca stepped in, her beautiful nail art glittering in the sun as she covered her mouth. “Oh, Vee.” There was the slightest tremor in her voice, a dampness in her eyes. “Damn it, girl, you’re going to make me ruin my face. You look beautiful, Vee. I mean, I knew you would, but wow.” Becca covered the distance between them in a few short steps, her arms stroking Ivy’s bare shoulders. Reaching onto the clothes rack, she removed a small pink hanger bag. “I promised you, but, Vee, you don’t need this. You’re a freaking queen, this dress was made for you. Literally. You’re a goddess in mortal form.”
Ivy crushed Becca into a hug, her fingers tracing over the soft wool fabric of her almost steampunk-style top and tails outfit.
Becca was taking the role of her father. She’d have no one else walk her down the aisle, no one else give her away. The jacket fitted perfectly. A stylish chain hung from the left pocket in a perfect U, securing a pocket watch, and keeping it from sight. The cut of the tails was stunning, looking almost like a dress, with form-fitted trousers. She looked simply stunning. The moment Ivy had seen this sketch, it was exactly what she wanted for Becca. It fit her personality and style to a T.
She wasn’t one of those brides who wanted those next to her to shrink away and leave her in the spotlight. No, she wanted them beside her, every vibrant and beautiful part of what made them who they were on display for all to see.
“You look magnificent.”
“Of course I do.” She grinned, the burgundy stones of some of her facial piercings caught the light with the motion, making Ivy notice other details, like how the wide lapels were trimmed with the same shade of ivory as her dress, just like the material fastens for the jacket’s buttons. Burgundy ribbon ran across the top of the pockets. The more Ivy looked, the more details she picked up, like how the barely visible waistcoat had a pattern identical to the lace, which matched the choker around each of their necks.
Ivy blinked, feeling herself tear up. “Thank you,” she whispered.
