Chapter 1 #2
“Veronica, what is this?” Neil yelled through the door. “I’m not supposed to see you.”
“Oh, just come in,” I said crossly, shoving the lipstick back into my bag. “I’m not in the mood to play games.”
“Mother said absolutely not.”
I fumed, my nostrils flaring. “Fine. Then I’ll come out.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Just stay where you belong, and we can talk later.”
But I was done following his commands. I’d let him tell me what to do ever since he put a ring on my finger, as if the diamond gave him the right.
I flung open the door to see my fiancé standing there, looking handsome in his tux but undeniably perturbed.
The famous slab-like Vanderhoof chin, identical to his father’s and grandfather’s, was thrust forward and rigid.
He ran a hand over his impeccably styled dark blond hair without really touching it. “Is this necessary, teacup?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said, glancing behind him at the guests entering the vestibule. “And I didn’t want to do it out here, but I will if I must.”
“Is this about the lipstick?” His eyes narrowed as he focused on my mouth. “Because I thought we agreed, no red.”
“It’s not about the lipstick. I got your texts.”
“What texts?” Now his eyes shifted toward the church’s double doors, which were propped open to the June sunshine. His family stood on the steps.
“Of course, you got my name wrong—it’s Veronica, not Valerie—or maybe it’s me who had it all wrong when I said yes to this wedding.”
Neil’s tanned complexion, golden from hours spent on the outdoor tennis courts or sailing on The Silver Spoon, his family’s boat, suddenly went pallid. “What?”
“You texted the wrong woman, Neil. And you cheated on me.”
Understanding of his error registered, and shock crossed his face. But he cleared his throat and composed himself quickly. “Veronica, please. Don’t make a fuss. People can hear you.”
“Well, if you’d have listened to me, we could be having this discussion behind closed doors. But you always think you know best.”
People behind Neil were politely pretending nothing was wrong and making their way into the sanctuary. He glanced over his shoulder again and tried to take me by the arm, as if he wanted to steer me into the bride’s room, but it was too late for that.
I shook off his hand. “I’ve had it, Neil. I can’t believe I’ve wasted so much time trying to be someone I’m not.”
“Veronica, what’s come over you?”
“Do you even love me?”
“I’m marrying you, aren’t I?”
“My god.” I put the heels of my hands to my forehead. If the sext was a road sign, this conversation was like being knocked over the head with an iron skillet. “No. You are not marrying me.”
“What are you talking about? The wedding is today.” He adjusted his cuffs. “You are the bride, I am the groom, and we can deal with this misunderstanding tomorrow.”
“This isn’t a misunderstanding. It’s a betrayal. And it’s one I should have seen coming.” I shook my head. “I’ve been a complete fool.”
His eyes hardened. “On the contrary. Saying yes to me was the smartest thing you’ve ever done. I’m giving you a life you’d never be able to afford.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“Your mother did.” Neil knew where to stick the knife. “On her deathbed, your mother asked me to take care of you, and I said I would give you everything you ever wanted, and you’d never have to worry about money again. All you had to do was say yes.”
“And I did. Because I’d promised her I would at least give this life a chance. But your money can’t give me what I want.”
Neil laughed, a dismissive huff. “Of course it can. The only people who say money can’t buy happiness are those who don’t have any. Money can buy everything.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m not for sale.”
“Darling, everything—and everybody—is for sale. Now get back in that room before Mother sees you out here. And wipe off that lipstick.”
I folded my arms over my chest. “No.”
“We’re getting married today,” he said furiously, pointing a finger at the ground between us. “And that’s final.”
“And if I refuse to marry you?”
“You wouldn’t dare. Because you realize, teacup,” he said, a sneer on his lips, “that I own or control everything you have. Our apartment. Your job. Your credit cards. Your car. Your phone.”
“You might as well add my friends and my clothes and my personality too,” I told him. “You took everything I was and replaced it with who you wanted me to be. You made it impossible to leave.”
“And you went along with it, because you knew it was in your best interest.” He looked smug. “Face it. I’m the best thing that ever happened to you. You’re nothing without me.”
Fuck you was on the tip of my tongue, but since nothing I said seemed to be sinking in, I kept my mouth shut. Clearly, I was going to have to get more dramatic if I wanted to make my point.
And if I know how to do anything, it’s put on a show.
I adopted a serene expression, as if I’d given in. “Okay, Neil. You can have it your way.”
Neil nodded. “That’s more like it. I’ll see you at the altar.”
I watched him walk away and almost felt sorry for him.
He had no idea what was coming.
Twenty minutes later, I still wore the angelic smile as I glided up the aisle on my own, the pews on either side packed with Vanderhoof family and friends.
Neil looked a bit put out that I hadn’t wiped off the red lipstick, but he could hardly throw a fit about it now.
The first half of the ceremony passed in a blur, the voice of the minister muffled and far away, my pulse quick and loud inside my head.
Then came the vows.
Neil and I faced each other. He looked sweaty and annoyed. I felt surprisingly cool and composed.
“Cornelius,” said the minister, “do you take Veronica to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” said Neil.
What a crock of shit, I thought.
“And Veronica, do you take Cornelius to be your wedded husband, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him, for as long as you both shall live?”
I pretended to think it over, then shook my head. “Nah.”
The minister’s expression was confused, as if I’d spoken a foreign language. “I’m sorry?”
“I don’t take him.”
“Veronica.” Neil spoke through his teeth, his eyes warning me to stick to the script. “Say the words.”
“No way. You’re not the boss of me.”
His eyes hardened. “Stop this ridiculousness right now. You’re acting like a silly little girl.”
“I’ve been acting like a silly little girl for a year. Now I’m acting like a grown woman capable of making her own decisions. And I’m not going to marry you.”
The minister looked completely baffled. The guests had started to get anxious, and I could hear tense murmurs echo throughout the sanctuary. Possibly a snicker or two.
“Goodbye, Neil.” I started to walk back down the aisle and he grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around to face him again.
“You can’t leave me,” he said, his neck stretched forward like a goose. “I chose you. I pursued you. I rescued you from that tacky, low-class life and offered you a place in real society. I won’t be dumped by a—a—two-bit, uneducated, red-lipped showgirl!”
The crowd gasped.
“Showgirl!” Shrinking back, I gathered up my dress in my hands, revealing my sneakers. “I am a motherfucking Radio City Rockette, you two-timing, overgrown frat boy, and I’ve got more class in my pinkie toe than you’ll ever have!”
And I let loose with a ball-change, grande battement that caught him squarely beneath the Vanderhoof chin.
“Ow!” Neil grabbed his jaw. “Veronica, what the hell are you doing?”
“I’m making a fuss!” I shouted joyfully. Then I threw the bouquet on the floor, pitched my engagement ring at his chest, hiked up the bottom of my dress, and took off running.
I was broke, I was stranded, and I was probably homeless.
But I was free.