My Big Fat Fake Wedding(98)

Her words shatter me, and the tears that I’ve struggled to hold back since I saw Papa collapse pour forth.

This was supposed to be the best day of my life. I’d tried to give Papa that last happy memory, to make his dying wish come true.

Instead, it’s become my worst nightmare, and as Sofia supports her sister, I feel worse than I’ve ever felt before.

Nana, though, as much as she must be breaking on the inside, draws upon that well of strength she has.

“May I see him?”

The doctor nods, leading Nana and Mom to the back but stopping everyone else with a shake of her head. In the silence that follows the door swinging closed, I want to scream in anguish, but I can’t. Not after the strength Nana just showed.

“I think there’s a conversation you need to have,” Aunt Sofia says, lifting her chin at Ross.

I can’t do this, not now. My brain is too fried, my heart too filled with fear, but she’s right. “Let’s step out,” I tell Ross, wanting to get away from the glares of my family. They’re frigid with me, but they look like they’re plotting Ross’s murder.

He nods woodenly and then winces, and I think he must have a hell of a headache from the fight and the blow he took to the head.

In the hallway, I close the door behind me, separating us from my family, not that anything’s secret now.

“Violet, I—”

“No, Ross,” I whisper, the anger building within me. I want to rage at the world, bemoan the unfairness of it all, go back and wipe the last little while from existence. I’d do anything to have Papa healthy beside me once again.

The guilt gnaws at me. Oh, there’s enough to go around, but most of it lies on my shoulders. But Ross is the one standing here with me while everyone else either hates me, is disgusted with me, or is just avoiding me.

So Ross is the target, and he’s going to catch the full blast of everything I’ve got.

“What the fuck just happened?” I ask, stepping up to him. “How did Colin even get in? Why didn’t you stop him before he ruined everything? What if Papa doesn’t make it?”

The questions I’ve been asking myself blurt from my lips. I’ve been replaying the scene in my head on a loop, changing small details and trying to figure out how that would’ve affected the outcome. If anything could have prevented Papa from being here like this.

Ross tries to put his arms around me, to hug me to him, but I shake him off. “No. Don’t you get it? It’s over . . . our lie, our relationship, our . . . everything. Everyone knows it’s all fake. It’s all fake, and because of us, Papa’s here! You and I, we did this!”

I fall apart, ugly, snotty tears making my puffy face slick with sadness and fear again.

“We didn’t mean to,” Ross says lamely, trying to find some sort of justification for what we’ve done.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now. Just leave. Please.”

Ross looks like he’s about ready to cry now, his throat working. “Vi—”

“Leave,” I whisper. “This fairy tale’s over.”

Ross looks like he wants to argue but instead, after a moment, nods, leaving me alone in the suddenly empty hallway.

I’m alone.

All alone.

The tile seems so comforting, and I sag to it, finally able to sob the way my heart demands.





Chapter 25





Ross—Sunday—1 Day After the Wedding





Sunday’s supposed to be a day of rest.

This specific Sunday should have been a day of celebration. Violet and I were going to wake up late after a long night of making love, enjoy a leisurely brunch somewhere around two or three in the afternoon, then get on a private plane to fly off on our honeymoon, maybe joining the Mile-High Club in the process.

That was the plan. A start of a new life and an opportunity to tell Violet that things have changed. That even though it’s been only two weeks, this isn’t fake anymore. Not to me.

I planned to tell her that I’ve developed feeling for her, ones that run deeper than I’d ever imagined. I planned to tell her that I love her and want to spend not just some short blip of time with her, but I truly want to be with her forever. I planned to tell her everything.

What’s that saying about the best-laid plans?

Something about them so often going awry. Well, they have done that, for sure. In a big ball of spectacularly destructive flames from which there might be no recovering.

Now, those future plans lie in utter ruins.

Papa is desperately ill. Violet sent me away, her family glaring at me only marginally harder than they frowned at her. My mother crying as she asked where she went wrong that I would do something like this to a nice girl like Violet. Courtney’s eyes full of hurt as she said, “I asked you straight out and you lied to my face.” And my father. I’d almost feared he was going to end up in the hospital next to Papa with the way the vein in his forehead was throbbing. Red-faced and furious, he’d told me that he had to go clean up my mess, like I was nothing but an unruly child.

“That was another call,” Kaede says as he gets off the phone. He’s been doing damage control with me all day. “Another of the shareholder groups says they’re going to dump all of their stock. You know, it was a lot easier to pull this shit back in the days before online trading. Someone has the world’s biggest fuckup of a wedding on Saturday, you still had all day Sunday to calm down before markets opened on Monday. Damn shame how the world’s speeding up.”