Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
By afternoon, my marriage has become a family referendum.
My aunt thinks I should file for divorce before Caleb can move money.
Caleb's cousin thinks bachelor parties exist outside normal rules.
One of the bridesmaids sends me a six-minute voice note about biblical forgiveness even though she threw a wineglass at her boyfriend for liking his ex's photograph.
The wedding group chat has been renamed three times.
Jeremy changes it to THE TRUTH.
Ivy changes it to Jeremy FELD IS A PATHETIC LITTLE BITCH.
Marguerite changes it back to DAHLIA & CALEB'S WEDDING.
Before she calls, I make the mistake of reading the messages.
Caleb's aunt posts that marriage requires endurance. My cousin replies that endurance is for marathons, not ambushes. One of Jeremy's friends says every man in the room knew the dancer was not me, as though that somehow clears my husband.
Owen writes, Caleb did not know.
I type, He knew after the blindfold came off.
The typing indicator appears beneath half a dozen names. Nobody sends anything.
Ivy takes my phone and writes, You are all very brave when discussing someone else's marriage.
Marguerite responds privately to her.
This hostility is not helping Dahlia.
I take the phone back.
My sister is helping me pack the life your son broke. What are you doing?
Marguerite does not answer me. She calls instead.
Then she calls me.
"I know you are upset," she begins.
"That is a dangerous opening sentence."
"I only mean that emotions are high. Caleb has not slept. Jeremy may need stitches."
"Then Jeremy should visit a doctor."
"He says Caleb assaulted him."
"Is this call about Jeremy?"
"Of course not. It is about containing the damage before it destroys both families."
I look around my apartment. My wedding dress is still at the cleaner. My gifts are in a house I no longer live in. My husband kissed his ex, and Marguerite is worried about damage to the Ashby family name.
"Your son destroyed our honeymoon."
"Caleb did not release that video."
"He participated in it."
"He was tricked. Men do ridiculous things at bachelor parties. That is why women do not usually attend them."
"If I had kissed my ex at my bachelorette party, would you say the same?"
She hesitates.
"That is different."
"Of course it is. I am not your child."
"Dahlia, you have been married less than a week. People will forget the video if you stop feeding the spectacle. Go home. Handle this privately."
"You mean hide it."
"I mean protect your marriage."
"Where was all this concern for my marriage when Jeremy sat Sable in Caleb's lap?"
"Caleb stopped it."
"Not quickly enough."
“One kiss should not erase five years."
"They erased my honeymoon."
"You chose to leave Maui."
The words hit with such precision I know she has been saving them.
"Excuse me?"
"Caleb begged you to stay. You could have waited long enough to see the complete recording. Instead, you flew home and emptied the house. You have made every decision in anger."
I laugh. It is not a kind sound.
"Your son kissed another woman, hid it, married me, and flew me six thousand miles away. But I destroyed the honeymoon because I chose not to spend another night in his bed?"
"That is not what I said."
"It is exactly what you said."
"I am trying to keep you from making a mistake."
"You raised a man who thinks regret should erase behavior. Now you are trying to teach his wife the same lesson."
She gasps.
"Do not call me again until you can speak about what he did without telling me how quietly I should endure it."
I hang up.
My phone rings immediately. I assume it is Marguerite calling back and answer ready to finish the fight.
Before I can speak, a message appears from my mother, who has been silent until now.
I saw the video. I am waiting for you to tell me what you need.
The simple sentence nearly destroys me. No advice. No demand. No attempt to measure whether my pain is proportionate.
I call her after the conversation with Marguerite, but all I can manage is, "I don't know what I need."
"Then I can sit with you while you don't know."
"Ivy is here."
"Good. Are you safe?"
"Yes."
"Do you have money?"
"Yes."
"Do you want me to come?"
I close my eyes. "Not yet."
"Then I won't."
That is what choice sounds like. The contrast makes Marguerite's call feel even uglier.
"What?"
Caleb says, "What did my mother say to you?"
"Ask her."
"She called me crying."
"Good. We finally have something in common."
"Dahlia."
"She told me I ruined our honeymoon by leaving."
There is a terrible pause.
"Put her on the phone," Caleb says.
"She isn't here."
"I'm adding her."
Before I can object, the call clicks.
"Caleb," Marguerite says. "I was trying to help."
"By blaming my wife?"
"I did not blame her. I suggested she stop reacting while she is emotional."
"She is emotional because I humiliated her."
"Jeremy humiliated her."
"Jeremy set the trap. I gave him the footage. Stop making excuses for me."
"I am your mother."
"Then care enough about me to tell the truth. Dahlia has every right to leave."
My throat closes.
Marguerite goes quiet. "You don't mean that."
"I do. I will spend the rest of my life trying to give her reasons to come back, but I will not let you shame her into it."
"Caleb," I whisper.
He hears me. His breath catches.
Before either of us can say more, another voice enters the group chat. A man I recognize as Owen, one of Caleb's groomsmen.
"I have the original video," he says.