Chapter 4 - The Truth About Table Nineteen
The panic that erupted at Table Nineteen was instantaneous. My cousins, who only an hour before had mocked my plain appearance and nonexistent love life, scrambled out of their chairs like cornered rats.
Cousin Rebecca rushed forward, her hands shaking as she tried to hand me my beaded clutch. “Meredith! I... I grabbed your purse for you! I kept it safe the entire time, I swear! You know I’ve always admired your independence, right? I always told Aunt Patricia that you were the smartest one in this family!”
“Keep your hands off my wife’s belongings,” Julian commanded without even turning his head.
Rebecca froze, her face turning crimson, and set the purse back down on the linen cloth as if it were burning hot iron. One of Julian’s security officers calmly retrieved the clutch, inspected it, and handed it directly to me with a respectful nod.
“Thank you, Marcus,” I said softly to the officer.
The guests were now murmuring in frantic whispers. People who had pointed and laughed while I climbed out of the fountain were suddenly averting their eyes, terrified that making eye contact with me might draw Julian Sterling’s wrath down upon their own businesses. Boston high society was a tangled web of private banks, real estate portfolios, and municipal contracts; Julian held the strings to half of them.
Allison could no longer contain her rage. She lifted the heavy skirts of her ballgown and marched toward us, her makeup ruined by angry, black streaks of mascara.
“You ruined my wedding!” she shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger at my face. “You did this on purpose! You knew who you were married to, you knew what kind of power he had, and you deliberately waited until my reception to pull this theatrical stunt! You couldn’t stand that for once in your pathetic life, the spotlight was entirely on me!”
“Your spotlight?” I laughed. It was the first genuine laugh I had let out in that ballroom all evening. “Allison, you didn't even want me here. You didn't give me a plus-one because you wanted me to sit at table nineteen like a charity case. You wanted your friends to whisper about the spinster older sister so you could look like the golden child who achieved it all.”
“You are selfish!” Allison screamed, stamping her foot like a spoiled child. “Bradford, tell her! Tell her she can’t do this to us!”
Bradford IV didn't move. He stood ten feet away, staring at his father with hollow eyes.
“Bradford?” Allison demanded, spinning around to glare at her new husband. “Say something! We’re married now! Defend me!”
“Shut up, Allison,” Bradford IV whispered hoarsely.
Allison gasped, reeling back as if she had been slapped. “What did you just say to me?”
“I said shut up!” Bradford shouted, his composure shattering completely in front of two hundred guests. “Do you have any idea what’s happening right now? The Sterling Group provides sixty percent of the venture capital for my father’s commercial holdings! If Meredith audits our municipal filings, my father will face federal indictments by next month! We are ruined, Allison! We are completely bankrupt before we’ve even cut the damn cake!”
A collective gasp swept through the Wellington relatives. Bradford Wellington III leaned against a marble pillar, rubbing his temples frantically, whispering instructions to his personal lawyer who was rapidly dialing numbers on his phone.
My father fell to his knees beside the ice sculpture. The swans had begun to melt under the heat of the ballroom spotlights, water dripping slowly onto the carpet, mirroring the puddle I had left behind earlier.
“Meredith,” Robert pleaded, his voice breaking into a ragged sob. “You can’t do this to your own flesh and blood. I am your father. I raised you. I put a roof over your head. I paid for your education! If you let Julian call that debt, Campbell & Associates will cease to exist. My partners will sue me. I will be disbarred!”
I looked down at the man who had terrorized my childhood. The man who had weighed my value by how well I made him look at cocktail parties. The man who had pushed me into freezing water because I dared to walk away from his cruel insults.
“You didn't pay for my education, Robert,” I said, my voice echoing with icy clarity. “I won a full academic scholarship to Harvard, which you took credit for in the local newspaper. And when I needed five thousand dollars for my senior year board, you told me to find a wealthy husband or drop out.”
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Julian tightened his arm around my waist, his presence an unyielding wall of support.
“You told me I would amount to nothing,” I whispered. “You were wrong.”
