“I know.”
“No.”
“You do not get to say ‘I know.’”
“She said she didn’t want my brother’s face in our wedding pictures.”
“I heard her.”
“And you said we’d figure something out.”
“I meant I needed ten seconds to stop you from committing a homicide with a dessert fork.”
Despite myself, I almost laughed.
Almost.
“This isn’t funny.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me right now.”
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He turned fully toward me.
“Ethan is walking you into Cedarbrook Chapel.”
My anger paused.
“There was never another option.”
“Then why didn’t you say that to her?”
“Because if I said what I wanted to say, Ethan would probably hear about it before breakfast tomorrow.”
I went quiet.
Adrian continued:
“You know my family.”
“My mother would call my aunt.”
“My aunt would call somebody.”
“Three weeks from now Ethan would somehow hear that there was an argument about him.”
His voice softened.
“And I will not let him think for even one minute that I didn’t want him beside you.”
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My eyes filled.
“I don’t want him knowing.”
“He won’t.”
“Promise.”
“I promise.”
I cried then.
Not because Margaret had hurt me.
Because Adrian had understood exactly which part mattered.
He pulled me against him.
After a while, I said:
“I still want to do something.”
“I know.”
“No confrontation.”
“Good.”
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