Chapter 3 - The Second Bride
On Monday, March 9, Lucas and I drove out to Cottonwood Bend for our final walkthrough. A biting wind swept off the river, whipping my hair across my face as Tessa met us with a clipboard bursting with color-coded sticky notes.
We walked out onto the ceremony lawn, and my footsteps slowed. Four heavy iron stakes wrapped in bright orange survey tape formed a neat square roughly thirty feet away from the exact location Lucas and I had spent months planning.
Tessa consulted a pink note on her pad. ""So, the four o'clock ceremony will take place right here in the riverside setup. Then our staff will flip the chairs, and your ceremony begins at five.""
I froze. Lucas blinked in confusion.
""The Whitfield-Keller ceremony,"" Tessa supplied helpfully, offering a bright corporate smile.
""I booked one wedding,"" I said, my voice dropping an octave.
Tessa’s smile faltered. She checked her papers. ""Your booking is at five.""
""Who authorized a four o'clock ceremony?""
""Mrs. Whitfield,"" Tessa stammered, flipping a page. ""She said the family decided.""
Lucas turned white. ""My mother?""
Tessa looked back and forth between us, panic creeping into her eyes. ""She told me you both knew about it.""
""Nobody asked me,"" I said quietly. It was the calmest sentence I had ever spoken, yet it carried the weight of an avalanche.
Tessa rushed us into her indoor office and pulled up our file on her monitor. There it was in black and white: Allen-Whitfield Wedding, 5:00 PM. Whitfield-Keller Wedding, 4:00 PM. Host Family Contact: Colleen Whitfield. Contributing Party: Colleen Whitfield, $2,500.
The rehearsal pavilion gift. The little yellow sticky note had been weaponized. Colleen had used a $2,500 contribution to muscle her way into my $58,400 contract, grafting her daughter’s wedding onto mine like a parasite.
""Read the client signature line,"" I instructed Tessa, pointing at the screen.
She scrolled down, her face draining of color. ""Vera Allen.""
""That’s the client. Now scroll down to the admin notes.""
Tessa found Marisol’s bolded warning: CHANGES ONLY FROM CLIENT. It was written twice.
Tessa slammed her palm against her desk, looking sick to her stomach. ""I’m so sorry! I’m new, I didn't see the flags—I can delete the second ceremony right now!""
""Do it,"" I commanded.
She hammered her keyboard, and the Whitfield-Keller line vanished from the system. I expected a rush of triumphant vindication. Instead, I felt hollow. Deleting the line on a computer screen didn't fix the rot underneath; it merely exposed how fragile my entire life had become.
Back in Lucas’s truck, I told him to call his mother on speakerphone.
Colleen answered on the first ring, bright and breezy. ""There’s my boy!""
""Mom, we’re at Cottonwood Bend,"" Lucas said, his voice shaking slightly.
Silence stretched across the line.
""We saw the setup for Brie’s ceremony,"" Lucas continued. ""What is going on?""
A soft, theatrical sigh came through the speaker. ""Well, it’s just one day, Lucas. She couldn't afford a venue, and you two already have the property paid for all day anyway.""
""Paid for by Vera,"" Lucas snapped.
""Oh, family doesn’t keep score,"" Colleen chirped, completely unfazed.
Lucas looked at me, then glanced down at the yellow sticky note still plastered to his dashboard. A muscle ticked in his jaw. ""Maybe it's not the worst thing,"" he muttered.
He shouldn't have said that.
I didn't yell. I didn't cry. I leaned across the console and looked straight into his eyes. ""Say that again.""
He clamped his mouth shut.
May you like
Colleen filled the vacuum, laughing lightly. ""See? Lucas understands. Vera, you’re marrying into a family now. This is how we operate.""
I reached out and pressed the red end-call button. No goodbye. No arguments. Just my thumb ending her reign over our afternoon.
