The Wedding Veil(6)

Little did Edith know that, for her, until death do us part would only be the beginning.





JULIA Fractured Fairy Tale





Before I had time to ask Babs anything else about the beautiful image of Cornelia Vanderbilt we had just seen, Mom began herding us all to our seats at the table outside the conservatory. During a wedding weekend, adhering to the schedule is the most important thing, Aunt Alice had reminded me over and over again. I had thought my marriage to a man I loved was the most important thing. I had been wrong, apparently.

I was about to protest that Hayes’s mother hadn’t yet arrived, but before I could say so, she appeared in her pencil-thin, ultra-high stilettos and a fitted navy dress that hugged her in all the right places. I didn’t see her much, so when I did, it always surprised me how stunning she was with her cascades of auburn hair. My mom and aunt were pretty, but Therese was a bombshell. And a CEO bombshell at that.

As she sashayed over to kiss my cheek, her signature scent, created by a famous perfumer in France, where she lived, lingered. She was the female version of Hayes. He had inherited her blue eyes, right down to the sparkle, along with her effortless, soft hair, her easy laugh, and her wide smile. Sometimes, in moments like this, I would forget, just for a minute, how tense things were between them. I would forget that the night I met Hayes, after a soccer game between our rival high schools, was also the day his mother left their family. Or, at least, that she left and they decided not to go with her.

“I am so thrilled this day is finally here,” she said evenly but happily. Therese had this practiced, powerful calm about her that always made me feel like a bundle of untamed energy in comparison. “You look spectacular! I am so happy that you and Hayes are finally making it official.”

“Ladies, if everyone could please find their seats,” Aunt Alice called. I could hear the stress in her voice. We were already four minutes behind schedule. Later, I knew, she would say, That Therese with those legs up to her neck thinks she’s above the schedule. She is not. No one is above the schedule.

As we all sat down, a slew of servers swept in with salads, and I noticed that the glasses on the table had already been filled with rosé. While I was chatting there had been, no doubt, a struggle ensuing around me. Babs would have given Alice the eye for having the wine poured before we sat, and Alice would have glared back, silently insisting that she knew it was improper but that it was the only way to save those precious minutes in her precise schedule, and it was, after all, almost noon. I could almost hear her saying: I have to get everyone out of here by two o’clock, for heaven’s sake, if we have any prayer of getting hair and makeup done before the rehearsal at five.

I smiled just thinking about it. A movement caught my eye then, and I popped up out of my seat. Sorry, Aunt Alice. The most handsome man I’d ever known was striding across the lawn in a green hunting vest, shotgun case strapped across his chest. His hair was adorably disheveled from wearing a hat all morning, and he was grinning at me. Even now, after all we had been through, all the times we had broken up and gotten back together, he still made my heart race. And now, I knew he made every woman there swoon when he said, “I know I’m not supposed to be here, but I just had to see my girl.” He kissed me quickly. Everyone was smiling at him, googly-eyed. Everyone except for Aunt Alice, who was glaring.

I was about to ask if he wanted to sit down when a combination of dings, beeps, buzzes, and chirps erupted at the table. Normally, I wouldn’t have looked at my phone in the middle of a luncheon, but as concerned looks passed everyone’s faces, I grabbed it by instinct. There must have been an AMBER Alert. Or a weather warning. Mom’s snowstorm!

Hayes pulled his phone out too, and I watched his face register horror as he processed whatever message it contained. I slid my finger to open my phone screen. It wasn’t a weather alert. It was a group text, from a number I didn’t know, to everyone seated around the table, plus the man I was going to walk down the aisle to the next day. I pressed play on a video. And after a few seconds, before Hayes could grab my phone from my hand, I had seen quite enough.

Babs’s proclamation from earlier flew through my mind. It’s the surprises that direct our path. I couldn’t breathe.

I looked at Therese, as panic washed over me. I thought about that first night I’d ever talked to Hayes, about the tears that stood in his eyes from more than a crushing soccer defeat. That night, as soon as I’d realized his mother had left her only son behind for a job opportunity in a different country, I felt deeply protective of him. I’d been there for him no matter what. But clearly, he didn’t feel the same way about me.

I looked up at Hayes now, humiliation engulfing me. I felt light-headed, like I might faint. My fiancé was on-screen making out with another girl on a dance floor.

All eyes around that table were on me, but it was Sarah who jumped up and put her hand on my back. That was when I came back into myself. The feel of her hand connected me to the real world again. And I ran so quickly she could scarcely keep up.

“Julia! It isn’t what you think!” Hayes called behind me, running after us.

I ignored him, racing through the gardens toward the parking lot. What had previously felt like a magical meadow of tulips now felt like a field of doom.

Once I reached the asphalt, I finally stopped, realizing I had no idea where I was going to go. I had drunk too much champagne to drive. “I can’t imagine where that video came from,” Hayes said breathlessly as he reached me, suddenly looking like a stranger. “That was from years ago. I don’t even know that person’s name.”