Chapter 2 · The Wedding Day I Heard Everything

[Come on, hurry up. My knees are killing me.]

I looked at him. At the face I'd been looking at for three years.

He wasn't classically handsome, but he was easy on the eyes. Small eyes that crinkled when he smiled. That was what had drawn me to him in the first place—I thought those eyes held nothing but sincerity and warmth.

"Honey?" he tilted his head. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out.

[What's wrong with her today? She's not backing out, is she? We've come this far. Don't screw it up now.]

I heard everything. Every bit of it.

He looked worried on the outside, but inside, he was calculating.

"It's nothing," I heard myself say, my voice hoarse and foreign. "I'm just really happy."

Ethan smiled and leaned in to kiss my forehead.

[Good. As long as she's happy. Once we're married, her house and savings are mine. And then…]

He didn't finish the thought—or maybe he stopped himself. But I'd heard enough. More than enough.

They helped me up, and he led me out. The bridesmaids tossed flower petals behind us as the groomsmen cheered and whistled. I moved mechanically, my head buzzing.

From the bedroom to the elevator, from the elevator to the wedding car, I heard a flood of voices.

Groomsman A: [Nice legs on that bridesmaid. Gotta get her number tonight.]

Groomsman B: [Only 70 dollars? Cheap.]

Bambi: [This dress makes her waist look so thick. Good thing I'm skinnier than her.]

Jade: [We've been friends for years, and I just dropped 700 dollars on her wedding gift. I'll never break even.]

My mom: [Finally, she's married. If she hadn't tied the knot soon, I'd be too embarrassed to show my face at the dance group.]

My dad: [Hope we've got enough booze for the wedding. Really don't want to scramble for extra tables at the last minute.]

Sitting in the wedding car, watching the city blur by outside the window, I suddenly felt a strange urge to laugh.

So this was what they'd all been thinking.

All those sweet words I'd heard over the past three years—just sounds. The real thoughts, I was hearing for the first time today.

The wedding car pulled up in front of the hotel.

I stepped out onto the red carpet. People lined both sides—relatives, friends, coworkers—smiling faces everywhere.

[She's finally getting married. I heard she lived with some guy for years, got dumped, and that's how she ended up with this one.]

[Ethan's such a catch. Why's he marrying a divorced woman? What's in it for him?]

[Tsk. Wearing all that white. No shame at all.]

I clenched my bouquet, my knuckles going white.

Ethan squeezed my hand. "Nervous?"

[Stop shaking. Everyone's watching. So embarrassing.]

I turned to look at him. He was smiling at the guests, the picture of thoughtfulness.

"Not at all," I said.

He relaxed and let go of my hand, leading me forward.

They took me to the bridal suite to wait for the ceremony to begin.

When the door closed, the world went quiet.

I leaned against the wall, gasping for air.

Hallucinations. That's all it is. Pre-wedding anxiety. Exhaustion. Maybe I was just going crazy.

Right, I must be crazy. That was the only thing that makes sense.

I took a deep breath and told myself, 'Okay. It's fine. Everything's normal. When I go back out, it'll be fine.'

The door swung open.

Margaret walked in, followed by a young woman carrying a tray with gold bangles and a gold necklace.

"Come here, sweetheart," she said, picking up a bangle with a big smile. "This is a gift from me to you. A family heirloom, passed down for generations."

I held out my hand and let her slip the bangle onto my wrist.

[Family heirloom, my foot. I bought this for 70 dollars at a flea market, complete with a certificate of authenticity.

[This dumb girl will never know the difference. If she didn't have money, why would I bother playing nice? This damaged goods isn't fit to set foot in my family.]

I glanced at the bangle on my wrist. It was glittering gold, with a surprising heft.

"Thank you, Mom," I said.

"Don't be silly. We're family now." She patted my hand.

[Family? Ugh, as if you deserve that. Once I get your money, I'll show you who's boss.]

I pulled my hand back.

She paused, a flash of irritation on her face before she quickly forced a smile. "Nervous, huh? Don't worry, after the toasts you'll feel better."

[Ungrateful brat.]

Then she left, her helper trailing behind her.

I sat on the couch, staring at the bangle on my wrist.

So that was it.

Every single person who'd smiled at me with congratulations—Margaret, Ethan, Bambi, my relatives, my friends—every single one of them had been thinking something completely different.

In their eyes, I was nothing but "damaged goods that had been passed around."

So Ethan didn't marry me for love—he just wanted my house and my money.

Chapter 2

[Come on, hurry up. My knees are killing me.]

I looked at him. At the face I'd been looking at for three years.

"Honey?" he tilted his head. "Why aren't you saying anything?"

I opened my mouth, but not a single word came out.

[What's wrong with her today? She's not backing out, is she? We've come this far. Don't screw it up now.]

I heard everything. Every bit of it.

He looked worried on the outside, but inside, he was calculating.

"It's nothing," I heard myself say, my voice hoarse and foreign. "I'm just really happy."

Ethan smiled and leaned in to kiss my forehead.

[Good. As long as she's happy. Once we're married, her house and savings are mine. And then…]

He didn't finish the thought—or maybe he stopped himself. But I'd heard enough. More than enough.

They helped me up, and he led me out. The bridesmaids tossed flower petals behind us as the groomsmen cheered and whistled. I moved mechanically, my head buzzing.

From the bedroom to the elevator, from the elevator to the wedding car, I heard a flood of voices.

Groomsman A: [Nice legs on that bridesmaid. Gotta get her number tonight.]

Groomsman B: [Only 70 dollars? Cheap.]

Bambi: [This dress makes her waist look so thick. Good thing I'm skinnier than her.]

Jade: [We've been friends for years, and I just dropped 700 dollars on her wedding gift. I'll never break even.]

My mom: [Finally, she's married. If she hadn't tied the knot soon, I'd be too embarrassed to show my face at the dance group.]

My dad: [Hope we've got enough booze for the wedding. Really don't want to scramble for extra tables at the last minute.]

Sitting in the wedding car, watching the city blur by outside the window, I suddenly felt a strange urge to laugh.

So this was what they'd all been thinking.

All those sweet words I'd heard over the past three years—just sounds. The real thoughts, I was hearing for the first time today.

The wedding car pulled up in front of the hotel.

I stepped out onto the red carpet. People lined both sides—relatives, friends, coworkers—smiling faces everywhere.

[She's finally getting married. I heard she lived with some guy for years, got dumped, and that's how she ended up with this one.]

[Ethan's such a catch. Why's he marrying a divorced woman? What's in it for him?]

[Tsk. Wearing all that white. No shame at all.]

I clenched my bouquet, my knuckles going white.

Ethan squeezed my hand. "Nervous?"

[Stop shaking. Everyone's watching. So embarrassing.]

I turned to look at him. He was smiling at the guests, the picture of thoughtfulness.

"Not at all," I said.

He relaxed and let go of my hand, leading me forward.

They took me to the bridal suite to wait for the ceremony to begin.

When the door closed, the world went quiet.

I leaned against the wall, gasping for air.

Hallucinations. That's all it is. Pre-wedding anxiety. Exhaustion. Maybe I was just going crazy.

Right, I must be crazy. That was the only thing that makes sense.

I took a deep breath and told myself, 'Okay. It's fine. Everything's normal. When I go back out, it'll be fine.'

The door swung open.

Margaret walked in, followed by a young woman carrying a tray with gold bangles and a gold necklace.

"Come here, sweetheart," she said, picking up a bangle with a big smile. "This is a gift from me to you. A family heirloom, passed down for generations."

I held out my hand and let her slip the bangle onto my wrist.

[Family heirloom, my foot. I bought this for 70 dollars at a flea market, complete with a certificate of authenticity.

[This dumb girl will never know the difference. If she didn't have money, why would I bother playing nice? This damaged goods isn't fit to set foot in my family.]

I glanced at the bangle on my wrist. It was glittering gold, with a surprising heft.

"Thank you, Mom," I said.

"Don't be silly. We're family now." She patted my hand.

[Family? Ugh, as if you deserve that. Once I get your money, I'll show you who's boss.]

I pulled my hand back.

She paused, a flash of irritation on her face before she quickly forced a smile. "Nervous, huh? Don't worry, after the toasts you'll feel better."

[Ungrateful brat.]

Then she left, her helper trailing behind her.

I sat on the couch, staring at the bangle on my wrist.

So that was it.

Every single person who'd smiled at me with congratulations—Margaret, Ethan, Bambi, my relatives, my friends—every single one of them had been thinking something completely different.

In their eyes, I was nothing but "damaged goods that had been passed around."

So Ethan didn't marry me for love—he just wanted my house and my money.