You're Invited(35)

AADK: Yes. Rose gold to match her engagement ring. That girl was mad about the color. I’m devastated that we can’t eventually see her in it. What a tragedy.

EP: But you didn’t design her wedding dress, am I right? The one for the church ceremony. I am told that she flew out to Singapore to purchase that particular dress.

AADK: No. Actually, I did design her wedding dress. But apparently the original dress I designed, and hand made, mind you, was damaged, somehow? The details are still unclear to me, but Kaavindi called me the day before yesterday, quite late in the night, in absolute hysterics, saying that someone had destroyed her dress.

EP: And did she mention who she thought might have done it?

AADK: She did blubber something about the hotel having to take accountability, but to be honest, I was a little too upset to really pay much attention. I asked if I could salvage the dress—if it was a tear or a rip or something I could mend—but she said there was no point.

EP: And were you upset at Miss Fonseka that the dress was destroyed?

AADK: I was upset that the dress was destroyed, of course. I spent hours upon hours doing all the embroidery by hand. I thought I would lose my eyesight at the end of it, that’s how intricate the threadwork was. Of course I was absolutely devastated that she wouldn’t be wearing it. That she wouldn’t even show it to me. But then, she did have a backup dress. A Hayley Paige that she flew down from Singapore. Can you believe that? Hayley Paige being backup to me? Anyway, Fiona was quite upset, but Kaavindi had decided to wear that to the church, apparently.

[Pause]

It was almost a little too convenient, if you ask me. The lowly local designer’s dress gets mysteriously ruined, and the high-profile foreign designer’s backup dress that cost a hideously obscene amount gets moved to the spotlight. Stephan de Krester would have thrown a party when he heard. But then . . . well, I guess there are more important things to focus on now.

EP: So you weren’t meant to be dressing her in your own design this morning?

AADK: That’s right. Sadly.

EP: Then can I know, Mr. Andre, if you weren’t dressing Miss Fonseka in her church dress, why you went to her room this morning?

AADK: What’s that supposed to mean?

[Pause]

Kaavi actually messaged me last night and asked me to come in about an hour earlier than planned. Something about wanting to do a livestream of her interviewing me, so I got there even before the makeup artists and hair people.

[Pause]

Look, she might not have been wearing my dress anymore, but I was overseeing her entire wedding aesthetic, you know. Just because she was wearing a fucking Hayley Paige, that didn’t mean I washed my hands of her completely. Like I said, Kaavindi was like family to me. I cared about her deeply and only wanted what was best for her.

EP: I see.

[Shuffling of papers]

Mr. Andre, I wanted to thank you for handing your phone over to my colleagues this morning. We have a few bits of information that we would like to verify. Would you mind stating for the record what these are?

[Shuffling of papers]

AADK: They appear to be printouts of text messages, I think.

EP: Yes, they are text messages sent between you and your assistant—a Miss Kumudini. Would you mind reading the highlighted text on page three?

[Shuffling of papers]

AADK: Can you believe the audacity of that selfish, spoiled bitch?

[Pause]

EP: Please continue, Mr. Andre.

AADK: Look, you have this wrong.

EP: Let me read out the rest of it for you. Can you believe the audacity of that selfish, spoiled bitch? All my hard work and she destroys my dress just so she can wear a trashy fucking gown that makes her look like a fucking chandelier? Fuck that rich bitch. I could fucking kill her.





8


AMAYA


Four Days before the Wedding


I MELTED INTO my room and turned on the air-conditioning as high as it would go. I would start to shiver soon, but I didn’t care. My face felt like it was coated in a layer of oil and grime, and my bra cut into my sides, which were starting to itch from the sweat.

I didn’t plan on sleeping, even though the dull thud in my head had developed into a full-blown pounding. I paced around the room, anxious, unsettled, trying to confirm my next move. I had been waffling when I got here—I knew that Kaavi shouldn’t be marrying Spencer, but I was also giddy with the thought that the Fonsekas might finally want me back in their lives. It was bittersweet. My chance to make amends marred with the knowledge that I had to stop a wedding. But now that I knew I had been tricked—that the Fonsekas never intended on making peace—there was nothing bittersweet anymore. Just plain old run-of-the-mill bitterness.

Kaavi can’t marry Spencer. In the past she’d always depended on me to make things right, but everything wasn’t about her anymore. It’s time for me to launch my first plan.

Seetha knocked on my door and brought a cup of milk tea. I accepted it but left it on my desk. I was too wired for tea.

Seeing Kaavi was . . . interesting, I suppose. Everything that happened left me so broken, so hurt, so painfully raw that when I finally pieced myself together, I thought no one could get through my armor again. But I guess that’s the problem with broken armor. There will always be cracks. And Kaavi knew exactly how to leak through mine.

Often, things we were in awe of when we were younger feel oddly unimpressive as adults. I used to think my house was a palace. I used to think my mother was the tallest woman in the world. Food laid out for me was a feast. Things change as you grow. As you understand the world for what it is. That we overcompensate in our memories because we didn’t know any better at the time.