Chapter 13 #2
“But Nessa was afraid to face him, so she sent me to the wrong address. She didn’t know there was another wedding happening there. She was completely intimidated and well… then chaos commenced blew up. You know the rest.”
“And Marc doesn’t know her?”
“No. I didn’t know him either. And finding out Alex would be my new boss really threw me. When he showed up at the office on Monday, I told security not to let him in.”
“You’re kidding.” Stephanie laughs and dries her hands.
“No, I’m serious. I thought he had tracked me down. I panicked…”
“Yes, he said he was totally surprised to see you there. What a crazy coincidence.” Stephanie glances at the newspaper, which I find a little odd. “So, there isn’t a single photo of your friend with Dominic?”
“She secretly took a few pictures of him. I still have them.” I point to my phone. “Go ahead, open Nessa’s chat. Just look at the last few pictures she sent me.”
Letting her snoop through that chat is me showing trust. I don’t have anything to hide anyway.
"Really?"
"Of course." I start opening packages and pulling out pots and pans. "This’ll be my first vegan lasagna. I’m curious how it’ll turn out." I glance briefly at Stephanie, who’s on my phone.
"There are great substitutes these days. They taste almost like the real thing."
"How long have you been vegan?"
"About a year. It works for me. I don’t force it on anyone, though. Marc loves his meat, and I’d never forbid him that."
"Did you find the pictures?"
"Mmh, yeah..."
I leave her to it and focus on the recipe I printed out beforehand. "Are you getting along with Alex?" she asks while still looking through my phone.
"Not at first. But I think it’ll be fine. He’s a good guy—we just got off on the wrong foot."
"Are you single, by the way?"
"Yes. For ages," I admit sheepishly. "My last relationship was three years ago. He wanted marriage, kids, a little house on the edge of London, and I was supposed to play housewife. But I wanted my career and didn’t want to depend on a man. Now I regret it. I mean, I love my job, but back then I thought family could wait. And now that’s exactly what I want." I sigh softly, then glance at her inquisitively. "It’s strange how we long for what we could’ve had but didn’t appreciate at the time.
If I could go back, I would’ve said yes.
I’d probably be a mother by now." I sigh quietly.
"I know what you mean. I resisted marriage for a long time too. But when I met Marc..." She trails off, absorbed in my phone, I assume she’s reading through more of my chat with Nessa.
I let her be. It’s only the last three months, anyway, and I deleted the worst bits during my lunch break.
"So you want kids too?" I ask.
"Mmh, yes… with the right man." She looks up at me and smiles. "Which I now have."
"Yeah. I hope I’ll be that lucky someday. I just need to find the right one now."
"Alex’s not your type?"
I half-expected her to keep asking about Nessa, but instead she redirects everything back to Alex. I suspect he’s asked her to pump me for information. Better to play it safe and paint him as a kind and great person.
"No, not at all. I like men with a little belly. Blond with glasses would be perfect. If you know anyone like that, send him my way."
"You don’t find Alex attractive?"
"He’s a handsome man, sure. But no, definitely not. He’s not my type at all."
Her expression doesn’t change, but she nods.
"Not what you expected to hear?" I press.
"Women usually go crazy when they see him. He's basically every woman's dream man." She looks at me and smiles. "We’re probably the only two people on this planet who don’t find him hot."
"Seems so." We both laugh. Stephanie moves closer to help me with the cooking, and I feel like she’s finally starting to open up.
"Be honest," I say. "How often have your friends asked you to set them up with him?"
She rolls her eyes. "All the time. Literally every single one of them. Even the ones already in relationships. Of course, it’s mostly because of his looks. But he’s also got a good character, money, influence, intelligence… It’s like God gave him all the things most men are missing."
"Money is always nice, sure but I find wit and charm way more interesting."
"True." Stephanie smiles. "Marc is like that. He always makes me laugh. When I’m near him, I feel at home. And when he’s gone—especially for longer stretches—I feel like I’m not really living."
"Is he away often?"
"Hm?" She looks at me, puzzled.
"Marc. I don’t even know what your husband does for a living. Does he also run a company like Alex?"
"Yes. Alex gave him money to start his own business. Basically, it’s similar to what Alex does—some kind of tech, programs, computer stuff. I don’t really get it."
"Honestly? I don’t either," I admit. "As a PA, I make coffee, organize documents, schedule appointments… I couldn’t even begin to explain to anyone what we sell. But I always know where my boss is and who he’s meeting." I giggle.
"Do you enjoy your work?"
"Absolutely. I have my own domain, my peace and quiet, and I can plan. I love planning things." Then, curious, I ask, "What about you?"
"I don’t work. I’m a… professional daughter, so to speak.
" She doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by that.
"But I studied history because I found it fascinating. My parents own real estate, which I’ll probably inherit or manage one day.
We’ll see… For now, I just want to focus on being a good wife. "
Wow. I never thought I’d meet someone like this in real life.
"There’s plenty to do in that role," I say.
"The house is big, I exercise a lot, and I make sure Marc always has something good to eat."
But isn't she bored? Whatever. That’s none of my business.
"Do you enjoy cooking?"
"Yes, I love it. When you asked if I wanted to cook with you, I instantly liked you." She beams as she stirs the béchamel sauce: vegan butter, flour, plant milk, nutritional yeast, salt, pepper, and nutmeg. I’m really curious how it’ll taste.
Meanwhile, I’m frying the vegan ground meat, chopping an onion, and mixing it in with the carrots before gradually adding the rest.
We chat a bit more—about the dreary London weather, current movies and shows—while layering the lasagna and sliding it into the oven. Afterward, we pour tea and make ourselves comfortable on the couch.
"How did you meet Alex?" I ask.
"In school. My parents are from France, and we moved to London when I was eleven. I already spoke fluent English, so school wasn’t hard.
It was this elite private school with uniforms—really fancy.
I liked that." She looks dreamy and nostalgic.
I sip my tea as she goes on. "At first, I was the total outsider.
The new girl. The weird one from enemy France. "
"It’s crazy that there’s still resentment after all these years," I say. "The war was ages ago."
"Yeah..." She sighs, then continues, "Alex was in my class, but I never really noticed him.
Three years later, I still had no friends and was being bullied, he eventually caught on.
The mean girls in my class were always cruel in secret, so no one ever noticed.
Not even Alex. He thought they were my friends.
For a while, I did too, until I realized they were just mocking me.
" She smiles. "Then one day Alex caught them hitting me. "
"What?" I'm horrified. Even girls can be really nasty and disgusting. And at a young age!
"I always thought if I endured it long enough, they’d eventually lose interest. But it only got worse.
Alex saw it and put them in their place.
He gave them such a scolding they never dared touch me again.
" Stephanie beams and looks at me, delighted.
"He was my hero. That’s how we became best friends. "
"Alex, the noble knight. And then he even set you up. Has he known Marc for that long too?"
"Yeah, but only since college. They were taking the same course. I went to a different university because I wasn’t interested in economics.
He and Marc did a lot together. Eventually, we always hung out as a trio.
At first, I wasn't really interested in Marc, but he fell in love with me from our first meeting. "
"And when did you finally give him a chance?"
"The spark happened only six months ago. He had started dating other women, and I saw how poorly they treated him. Alex was in the U.S. at the time, so I tried to be a better friend to Marc. So I cheered him up. Told him what a fantastic guy he was, and that a woman would be stupid not to appreciate him. He asked me if I was stupid too. That’s when it clicked.
I always thought he just had a crush, but it was real love from the very beginning. How could I not want to marry him?"
"Wow. He held on for a long time." I let out a deep breath. "And then I ruined your wedding."
Now I feel even worse than before.
"I think from today on we can laugh about it. At least it makes for an exciting story to tell our kids someday."
"True." We giggle and keep chatting until the lasagna is ready and we can try it. And I have to admit—it tastes almost exactly like the real thing. If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess the meat and cheese weren’t made from cow’s milk.
Stephanie and I talk a little longer before she glances at the clock.
“It’s already nine. I really need to head home—our flight leaves tomorrow evening.”
“Where to?”
“Two weeks in Zanzibar.”
“Wow, that sounds amazing. Do you like flying?”
“We’re taking my father’s jet. That definitely makes it easier.”
“I hope with a lockable sleeping area?” I tease as I walk her to the door.
“Oh, yeah…” She laughs, then suddenly pulls me into her arms. “London, it was so lovely meeting you. I hope we can do this again when I’m back?”
“Absolutely.” Maybe I’ve just found a new friend. That would be wonderful.
When I'm alone again, I call Nessa. I’d texted her earlier that I couldn’t talk, but she still tried.
“Hey,” I greet her, stretching out my legs.
“Finally,” she says, almost desperate. “Is she gone?”
“Yeah. It went really well, actually. She asked me a million questions, but Stephanie’s genuinely very sweet. We clicked well.”
“So, she’s not mad anymore?”
“No, everything’s fine.” I can hear Vanessa taking a deep breath. She seems just as relieved as I am. “Honestly, I never thought she’d handle it so calmly. In her shoes, I might’ve strangled me. I mean, I almost ruined her wedding. Well… I did, kinda.”
“She doesn’t sound like the grudge-holding type. Lucky you.”
Very lucky, indeed.
I can’t help a yawn. “I’m heading to bed. Today wore me out.”
"Okay. I won't be doing much more tonight either. I'm going to use the next few days to meditate, then I'll declutter my apartment. I think that will help."
“You need help?”
“Nah, I’ll do it on my own. It’s my little spring cleaning. I want a fresh start.”
"If you need anything, call me, okay? Or text me."
"I will. Talk to you later."
"Sleep well, my little Nessa."
“You too.”
We hang up, and I slip into bed, curious what tomorrow will bring.