Chapter Twenty-Nine Olivia
“Here I am!” Marigold threw her hands in the air. “Did no one believe I’d really come back? Is that why I just walked in on my maid of honor and my fiancé making out?”
“I’m sorry… what?” Olivia looked from Marigold to Natalie in disbelief, waiting for someone to speak.
She felt like she’d wandered onstage in the middle of a play, some absurd production she wouldn’t have sat through let alone participated in.
Natalie was sweaty and sniffling in a wrinkled bridesmaid’s dress, and Marigold seemed to be wearing the same clothes she’d left in yesterday.
But she was here, on Sandpiper Island—that was what mattered. They’d deal with the rest of it later.
“I walked in on Natalie and Jonathan kissing,” Marigold said wearily.
That can’t be right, Olivia thought. She turned to Natalie, certain that she’d say something to explain, to clarify. Loyal-to-a-fault Natalie was too meek to make a move like that, even if she wanted to.
But Natalie simply reddened and looked away, muttering, “Why don’t you ask Marigold where she’s been this whole time?”
Olivia turned to her sister. “Where were you?”
Marigold glared at Natalie before answering. “I was in Canada. I had a very short relationship I never told anyone about. We eloped, realized it was a mistake, and got a divorce, but I never signed the paperwork. That’s why there was an issue with the marriage license.”
Olivia could normally process new information with lightning speed, but this was too much. Her brain whined in protest like the fan inside an overheated laptop. “You were married. And you flew to Canada to finalize a divorce. Yesterday. The day before your wedding.”
“Yep,” Marigold said.
Olivia stared at her, waiting for her to continue. But Marigold seemed to have gone somewhere else, a distant look in her eyes. Olivia whirled around to face Natalie.
“And you knew this the whole time?”
“No, she lied to me, too, at first. I only found out she was in Canada when her flight back was canceled last night.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Olivia said. “You just decided it’d be better to lie to my face? Lie to my family?”
“I promised Marigold,” Natalie said quietly.
“You don’t get to make that kind of decision. This has nothing to do with you! I can’t believe you kept me in the dark about all—I thought we were on the same side.”
“Don’t yell at her,” Marigold said, her focus returning. “This isn’t her fault. Now will you please leave me alone so I can find my fiancé and figure out whether we’re still getting married in forty-five minutes?”
“Leave you alone to figure it out?” Olivia repeated. “Of course. I’m sure that’ll go well.”
Marigold winced as if Olivia had slapped her. And suddenly, she no longer looked like a woman whose wedding was about to be shrouded in scandal. She looked like a little girl who’d been too afraid to tell anyone she’d broken the cookie jar, and had gotten caught hiding the pieces.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia said. “That wasn’t helpful. I just… I just wish you’d told me about this. I could’ve helped you. Or at least managed the situation better.”
“See, that’s you wanting to control everything again.” Natalie clocked Olivia’s irritated expression and reddened. “Sorry, not the time.”
Olivia turned back to Marigold and sighed. “This is such a mess. What are we going to tell Mom? She was really looking forward to this.”
“Oh, come on.” Marigold looked pained again. “Mom would be horrified to hear you trying to guilt-trip me like that. She has other things to look forward to: there’s that Morocco trip with Bill at the end of the summer, and Christmas in the Cotswolds. And her art show in the spring.”
Each of the events Marigold rattled off plunged into Olivia like a knife. There would be no Morocco trip. By the time Lulu’s art show went up, her biography would be written in the past tense. Lulu Harding (née Levinson), 1964–2026, was an American artist…
“None of that is happening,” Olivia said quietly. It was time to come clean, even if that meant breaking her promise to Lulu and Bill. Marigold deserved better. Olivia deserved better—she couldn’t carry the weight of this on her own any longer.
“Mom only has a few months to live. She stopped treatment earlier this year. I’m so sorry, Mare.”
Whenever Olivia had heard the expression “the blood drained from her face,” she’d assumed it was a figure of speech. She’d never actually seen anyone turn white until this very moment, as she watched the color leave Marigold’s skin in real time.
“No,” Marigold said in a voice that made Olivia long for the days when she could fix her little sister’s problems with a Band-Aid or a bedtime story.
“That’s not true. You’re just trying to punish me.
” On her other side, Natalie stood with her eyes closed, her lips moving slightly, almost as if she was whispering to herself. Or praying.
“I’m sorry,” Olivia repeated. “You weren’t supposed to find out this way.”
“How long have you known?” Marigold asked as she slumped down to sit on an overturned tree stump.
“A few months. Mom was going to tell you after the wedding.”
“And you agreed? You thought this is what I would’ve wanted? That I’m that self-absorbed?”
“I don’t know what I thought,” Olivia admitted.
“I didn’t agree with their decision, but I didn’t think I had a choice.
It’s what Mom wanted, and I thought…” She lifted the hem of her dress so she could navigate the remainder of the stairs without tripping, and then made her way over to Marigold.
“I guess I wanted to spare you the pain for as long as possible.” She placed a hand on her shoulder, but Marigold shrugged it away.
“I wouldn’t have taken so many trips… I wouldn’t have…” A sob tore through Marigold, and she buried her face in her hands.
“Mare…” Olivia tried again to wrap her arm around her sister, but Marigold jumped to her feet.
“Just stay away from me. Both of you.” She shoved past Olivia and nearly elbow-checked Natalie on her way up the stairs.
“Wait,” Olivia called after her. “You can’t go through the lobby looking like that. People will wonder why you’re not dressed.”
“Oh, ‘people will wonder,’ will they? Fine.” She ran back down the stairs, jogged over to the chain-link fence that separated the garden from the woods behind the inn, and began to climb.
“Marigold, come on, don’t be ridiculous!” Olivia shouted. “You can’t just run away… again.”
But her sister was already gone.
Olivia sat in the golf cart with the engine running and absolutely no clue what to do next.
Marigold had disappeared. Perhaps she’d gone home to find Lulu, or left to track down Jonathan.
Or maybe she just wanted to be alone. Olivia didn’t blame her.
As frustrated as she was about her sister’s lies, she knew Marigold didn’t deserve this kind of pain on her wedding day.
Anxious to move in some direction—any direction—Olivia pulled onto the road and began to bump along with no particular destination in mind.
She had a mile to decide whether to take the turn for their cottage or keep heading across the island to the yacht club where everyone was gathering for the ceremony.
She moved over to make room for a group of tweens on bikes, some in sandals, others barefoot—their skin protected by their summer calluses—as they pedaled toward the beach.
Olivia remembered days like that, leaving the cottage with nothing more than a towel and few dollars for Popsicles, returning after sunset sunburnt and sticky, her limbs heavy with the kind of contented exhaustion she hadn’t felt in a very long time.
Up ahead, a man in a tux caught her eye, and Olivia sighed.
It was probably a wedding guest who’d missed the last golf cart shuttle and was trying to walk all the way to the yacht club.
The last thing Olivia wanted at the moment was company, but it’d be rude just to drive past. She slowed down as she approached and realized it was Zack.
“Hey,” she called. Her heart lurched as she slammed on the brakes. Or perhaps it would’ve lurched anyway. “What are you doing? Do you need a ride?”
“I’m fine, thank you,” Zack said, sounding oddly formal. “I felt like a walk.”
He doesn’t want to be alone with me, Olivia thought. And who could blame him after the way she’d toyed with his emotions, albeit unknowingly?
“The yacht club is more than three miles away. You’ll never make it in time.” That is, if there’s even a wedding to make it to. “Come on, hop in.”
Zack gave her a meaningful look. “I think we both know this wedding isn’t going to start on time.”
“Oh…” Olivia faltered. “I guess you’ve talked to Jonathan.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty upset.”
“So upset that he had no choice but to kiss Natalie?”
Zack raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not passing judgment here! I’m just reporting the facts.”
“Sorry, I know. What a mess, huh? This is turning out to be the wedding weekend from hell.”
“Oh, it could be a lot worse. I read about this wedding that took place on a cruise ship, and everyone got norovirus. You know, the one where you simultaneously—”
“Yeah, I know,” Olivia said, cutting him off. “No need to get into the nitty-gritty.”
Zack shook his head and made a tsk, tsk sound. “You put on a fancy dress, and suddenly you think you’re too good to talk about diarrhea.”
Olivia laughed. “You’re right, I have some nerve. Now let me give you a ride. I could use the company.”
Though what she meant was, I could use your company.
Zack was the person she wanted by her side as she struggled to sort through the mess she’d made with Marigold.
Over the past few days, Zack had been privy to the messy emotions she always tried to hide, and he’d never seemed uncomfortable or overwhelmed.
But it felt supremely unfair to lean on him like that now, after he’d already endured so much for her—“fake-dating” the woman he wanted to date in real life, then watching her blithely strike up a flirtation with another man.
As if reading her mind, he said, “It’s probably better if we keep our distance. We worked hard to convince Andrew that we were dating, and then that we broke up. We should try to keep things clean moving forward. That way, you’ll have a better chance of getting what you really want.”
He smiled, but the look in his eyes was nearly as painful as Marigold’s had been. Olivia hadn’t realized she’d had such a talent for causing so much suffering.
She’d been pulled in so many directions this weekend, she didn’t know which instincts to listen to and which to ignore.
She couldn’t let Zack believe that last night hadn’t meant something to her—it had.
But she also couldn’t tell him the questions that’d been consuming her all day.
She’d put Zack through so much already; she couldn’t keep playing with his feelings before she was positive about her own.
“Zack, listen, I don’t want you think… I mean, I’m not going to lie, I felt something with you too.”
“It’s fine, I swear. You don’t have to spare my feelings. I can take it.”
“I’m serious!” Olivia insisted. “It’s just… It’s been a nutty few days, and I’m not really acting like myself.”
“Olivia, you deserve to be happy. You don’t have to apologize for getting what you want.”
I’m not sure I know what I want, Olivia thought. But those weren’t words she could say aloud, not after everything she’d put Zack through. “I guess I’ll see you over there,” she said.
“See ya.”
Olivia started the engine and pulled back onto the road. She spun around to wave at Zack, but he’d turned to stare at the ocean, a faraway look in his eyes she was sure he hadn’t wanted her to see.