31. Chapter 31
Chapter 31
Marcy
My brother held the door open for us. Waiting.
I couldn’t believe I’d volunteered to go along with the surprise wedding just a few minutes ago. What was I thinking?
I’d been thinking only of myself. Of rage at my grandmother and her psy-ops games that directly impacted my life.
I hated hearing Patrick say what I knew was true. I wasn’t ready to get married. I’d used him to get what I wanted. Money. For a building. For a dream I wasn’t mature enough to tell my own family about.
Pretty much the worst. That was me. And Patrick was right. If we couldn’t agree on when to get married, maybe we shouldn’t. Ever. A marriage built on a foundation of lies meant deceit would linger beneath our commitment to each other. That was definitely worse than facing scorn from my grandmother.
In a nutshell, I’d ruined everything. I could blame Nonna all I wanted, but I’d hurt Patrick. The look of sheer pain and loathing on his face hit deep. The man had tried to run out of the room. Just like when I’d kissed him back when we were sixteen. I almost let him run again. He deserved to be free of me. He deserved better than a fearful, immature person who was ashamed to be real with her family.
We needed to end the lies.
We returned to the main ballroom where the DJ played a nineties soft rock staple. Probably to keep the mood light. Tough gig.
Hudson stood beside the door. “We’re here. Whatever you need. Are you…okay?”
Whatever expression lived on my face answered for me. Patrick walked ahead. “It’s over,” I told her, and headed for the proverbial gangplank to doom.
Murmurs ran through the guests. Patrick’s parents intercepted us at the edge of the dancefloor. Janine’s brow furrowed in worry, but her eyes blazed. “What’s happening? We tried to give you space. We had no idea about this bizarre surprise wedding idea. We truly expected the surprise was the engagement party.”
“You’re not going through with this, are you?” his father butted in.
I tried not to take offense. They looked so freaked that we might actually tie the knot. Then again, wheeling out a vintage dress with a priest on standby was legit bonkers. I couldn’t blame them for judging my family for life after this.
Patrick returned a steely look to his parents. “I know about the casino deal. We’ll talk later. But no, we’re not getting married.” He shifted past them to the DJ and asked for the microphone.
Mamá trotted over, shoeless, having ditched the heels. “I’m so sorry I pressured you about the wedding. You’re clearly upset. I didn’t know what Nonna had planned. Your Papá is giving her an earful over this.”
“It’s okay.” I gave her a quick hug. “Love you.”
I joined Patrick on the dance floor. “Let me start,” I told him. I gestured to the mic and took it without looking him in the eyes or I’d cry. I’d cry for all the hurt I’d caused him and for ruining what could have been.
Be brave. Be strong. Be honest. “Hello, everyone. A few announcements. We aren’t getting married today. Yes, it’s true we have an official marriage license. The reason we signed it was to release trust money from my nonna that stipulated I needed to be thirty-years-old or married. I’m twenty-eight and eager to get started on the next phase of my life, so we…I…convinced Patrick to sign the papers to meet the parameters of the trust. This was all me, and I’m sorry. I plan to use the money to quit my job and start my own bakery business.”
The loudest gasp came from Mamá. “You just hugged me and said nothing!”
The great aunts whispered among themselves, looking more confused than anything. I chanced a look at Nonna beside them. She looked…smug.
The woman dared to look smug. Smug!
She’d known all this time. How dare she look smug when Patrick and I were losing everything between us?
I had more to say. “For those of you who don’t know, my grandparents owned a bakery which closed after my Pop-pop suddenly passed. Baking has always been a past-time, but it means so much more to me because of our family. Breads, specifically. The yeast, it runs in my blood.” I paused for laughs from the crowd, but only a distant cough registered. Read the room, girl . “I work in accounting and have been feeling stuck for a while now, not interested in a CPA because I want to shift my skills into running my own business. I want to honor the Russo name. I even found the perfect storefront, and it’s for sale right now. So essentially…I lied to get the money. I signed that marriage license knowing we’d let it expire.”
More gasps sounded. Standing out from the gasps, Mamá declared: “Spoiled. So spoiled.”
I’d let her down.
“I’m sorry for lying,” I went on, determined not to break down. “And most of all…I’m sorry to Patrick for using him…for hurting him. We never expected any of this.” I glanced around the room. The known faces looking back confirmed how na?ve I’d been thinking our deal wouldn’t hurt anyone. How na?ve we’d been about the risk to ourselves.
I wasn’t just losing a fake fiancé. I was losing one of my closest friends.
Patrick signaled to me for the mic. I handed it over, feeling as if a boulder had lifted, only now replaced with a shame-heavy cloak.
“Marcy wouldn’t have taken this route if it hadn’t been for me. I’m running for mayor of a town where it’s not exactly favorable to run as a single dude. My former campaign adviser said an engagement would gain me legitimacy for the campaign. Marcy and I, well, we’ve been close for a long time, and figured an engagement would be believable. She’d get the trust unlocked, and I’d get a shot at mayor. The truth is, we aren’t actually engaged.”
“But you have a marriage license!” a great aunt called out. “For crying out loud, just get hitched! We’re all here.”
“I put on my Spanx for this.” Nonna’s sister patted her torso. “You know how hard it is getting into these at my age?”
I leaned toward the microphone. “I’m really sorry about the canceled wedding—which we had no idea about, by the way—and more importantly, the lying.” I shifted back then quickly returned. “And sorry about the Spanx.”
“Can we get on with the party?” a voice called out.
Of all people. “Papá?” Why was he making this even harder? I grabbed the mic back from Patrick. “Look, I understand this is confusing. I’m sorry for deceiving you all. Truly. We’re not engaged and we should probably all just go home. We aren’t…together.” I swallowed over the giant boulder in my throat. Ah, so it had merely relocated .
Papá had the nerve to laugh. “Come on, you two kids are in love! Let’s stay awhile and enjoy the evening.”
“But we’re not—”
“I don’t care if the ring is fake, or you signed the license early—you two are in love and I won’t be convinced otherwise. Marry now, later, never, fine by me. If he makes you happy, baby, you do what’s best for you.”
My heart swelled. Patrick did make me happy. More than I’d ever imagined. However, one crucial detail: I’d shattered his heart. I couldn’t even look at him. If we could just get through this, we could leave and do whatever else followed losing the love of your life because you were a coward.
Patrick cleared his throat. “Actually, you’re right. We are in love.”
I kept my gaze on the floor, fighting tears. This was too much.
“Can’t hear!” Uncle Tito called out.
I offered Patrick the microphone. He cast a wistful look at me. “I love Marcy, but love doesn’t solve every problem. Sometimes love…doesn’t fit what life throws at you.”
His gorgeous face, his kind eyes, carried heavy hurt I’d thrust on him. Regret filled me. Regret for ever saying I wanted to marry him today, because my reasons were garbage.
“What does that even mean?” Martha, one of Nonna’s lunch ladies, bemoaned loudly.
“In my day, we moved fast,” one of the great aunts declared. “My Stan, he took one look at me across the school gym at the sock hop and said, ‘that’s the one.’ We were married the next week.”
“You married a year later.” Her sister harrumphed. “Your sense of time is shot.”
“What I mean,” Patrick continued. “Is that I love Marcy, but I refuse to hold her back. We made a deal, and it did not involve actually getting married. I’m sorry again for deceiving those of you closest to me.” He looked at me, so plainly, so very Patrick. “I’m sorry for wanting more. I only made things worse.”
He handed back the microphone and walked off the dance floor.
My breath left my body. He was giving me what I wanted. What I’d insisted on so many times. I remembered how happy he’d looked when my family accepted our engagement. How tenderly he often touched me on the face, just looking at me before we kissed. The man adored me. He adored me and loved me and had just declared his love in front of everybody.
But it was too late. I’d thrown away what we’d built on this game for money. The true cost of my dreams: losing Patrick.
I simply couldn’t have both. A bakery or Patrick, but not both. And I’d stomped on Patrick’s heart in the process.
Noah took the microphone and switched it off. She ditched it on a nearby table. “I’m getting you out of here.” She hooked her arm through mine, leading me away. “I can’t believe I went along with this. I knew something was wrong. I should have trusted my gut.”
Surrounding voices became unintelligible noise. My vision blurred with tears and regret.
“Leave her alone,” Noah barked at someone as we made our way out.
I fought back sobs. I just needed to get out of this room. Something caught my eye. Anger hit so strong it stopped me in my tracks.
“Wait,” I told Noah. I turned, lifted my chin, and walked to the table with my nonna surrounded by relatives. It sounded like they were arguing, but all chatter ceased when they saw me.
My insides roiled with a cyclone of hurt, gaining momentum. “You.” I spat the word, allowing every emotion to come through.
Nonna looked back, her smugness gone. Her mouth was drawn, her posture no longer haughty and arrogant.
I stared her in the eyes. “You ruined everything.”