Chapter 3
The hotel manager hurried over and turned off the big screen.
The music stopped abruptly.
Standing off to the side of the stage, I overheard people whispering in the distance.
"The secretary's even got a say in the master bedroom?"
"Poor bride, this is just brutal."
"That's just shady of the Foster Family."
Katherine couldn't keep her composure and hurriedly dragged Emily toward the lounge.
"Emily, go inside for now. Don't let them see you like this," she said.
Emily walked past me, her tears still streaking her cheeks.
"Olivia, do you want me to resign?" she asked.
Smart play.
By taking a step back, she made herself look like the innocent one, like she's just a victim being pushed out.
James's brows furrowed.
"You don't have to resign," he said.
I gave a small, bitter smile.
"Then I'm leaving," I said.
The wedding dress weighed a ton, so I grabbed the hem and headed for the door.
My mom stepped in front of me, her hands trembling.
"Olivia, let's talk in the lounge first," she said.
My dad didn't stop me.
"If she wants to go, let her go," he said.
Katherine's voice rang out, high and harsh. "Christopher, what are you doing? With all these guests watching, you're really letting your daughter just walk out in front of everyone?"
My dad turned around.
"My daughter never left her shoes in another woman's new house," he said.
That was like a slap in the face to the Foster Family.
James's expression finally turned grim.
"Uncle, it's not what you think," he said.
"Then what is it?" my dad fixed James with a hard stare. "Explain yourself."
James paused for a couple of seconds.
"I was swamped during the renovation, so Emily was around a lot helping out. Some things ended up wrong because the workers made mistakes," he said.
Chloe immediately cut in. "Are you saying the workers messed up the label on the aroma diffuser too?"
One of the groomsmen Matthew tried to brush it off. "Come on, it's just a little sticker. It's their wedding day. Don't blow it out of proportion."
My dad gave him a cold stare.
"Would you still marry your girlfriend if another woman's name was sitting on the nightstand in your new house?" he shot back.
Matthew clammed up.
Just then, a few more cars pulled up outside the hotel.
James's uncle and a couple of senior relatives rushed in.
At the front was an old man with a cane, his expression severe.
"What's all this commotion?" he barked.
Katherine looked like she'd finally found her reinforcements.
"Samuel, Olivia's making a scene. She's embarrassing James in front of everyone," she said.
Samuel Foster turned to me.
"Olivia, marriage isn't a joke," he said.
I looked back at him, calm and steady.
"That's exactly why I'm not playing around," I replied.
Samuel frowned.
"The wedding can go on, but after that, James should reassign his secretary," he said.
Emily looked up from the lounge doorway.
James's face darkened even more.
"Grandpa, Emily's really good at her job. I'm not going to fire her just because of some misunderstanding," he said.
That line showed everyone exactly whose side he was on.
Katherine grabbed his arm in a hurry.
"James, just stop talking," she said.
But James looked right at me.
"Olivia, you weren't like this before," he said.
My throat felt stuffed with cotton.
I wasn't always like this.
Back then, when he worked late into the night, I'd bring him soup. I'd see Emily sitting beside him in the car, and I just took his word when he said she was only giving him a lift.
When he forgot my birthday, Emily picked out a necklace for him, and I just told myself he was busy.
When the new house was being renovated for three months, he said the air was full of formaldehyde and wouldn't let me visit. I actually thought he was being thoughtful.
Looking back now, every one of those "back then" moments was me handing him the knife to stab me with.
My phone buzzed again.
It was a message from the bridal shop owner.
[Olivia, how did a Miss Monroe end up taking your backup shawl? She said Mr. Foster told her to pick it up.]
In the photo, Emily's signature on the receipt was neat and delicate.
The date was two weeks ago.
I handed my phone to James.
"You had her take my shawl two weeks ago?" I asked.
James glanced at the screen, his brow twitching.
"You said you didn't like the style that day, so I just had her deal with it since she was already out," he said.
I stared him down.
"I never said I didn't like it," I said.
Emily suddenly spoke up.
"Mr. Foster, I must've misremembered. I thought Olivia didn't like red."
Chloe snorted. "The bride's shawl for the wedding, you just assumed?"
My mom's face was ghostly pale.
"James, does she have the keys to the new house?" she asked.
That question made the whole room go dead silent.
James didn't answer.
Katherine quickly spoke up for him.
"It's perfectly normal for her to have the keys while the place was being renovated, isn't it?"
My mom staggered back a step.
My dad caught her, steadying her.
I stared at James.
"And now?" I pressed.
James swallowed hard.
"I haven't gotten around to collecting them yet," he said.
Emily's tears finally spilled over.
"Olivia, I'll return them right now," she said.
She pulled a set of keys out of her bag.
On the keychain hung a tiny wooden tag.
On it, some words were carved.
Emily's House.
Even Samuel's face changed in that moment.