Chapter 2

The flowers arrive on Monday.

Ivory roses. Pale blue delphiniums. White sweet peas.

My mother helped choose the colors before she became too ill to leave the house.

I stand beside the delivery van while the florist checks the sample arrangements against my notes.

"Are we still using the blue ribbon?"

"You'll need to ask Martin."

She glances up.

I hand her his updated contact details.

"He's responsible for the final decisions now."

Her eyes soften.

People keep doing that.

Looking at me as though I'm something they might break by speaking too loudly.

I prefer it to what I hear around the corner.

"Three years of this," a driver says. "She should've taken the hint."

Another man laughs.

"Maybe she thinks if the wedding goes well, he'll keep her around."

"I'm just glad we're finally getting it over with."

I recognize the first voice.

Frank.

Two winters ago, he was in the hospital with pneumonia. When his sick leave ran out, I called payroll, arranged help with the bills, and made sure his wife didn't have to sell their car.

He cried when he thanked me.

Now he's laughing.

I step around the van.

The laughter stops.

Frank pulls himself straight.

"Miss Bennett."

"The flowers go to the garden room," I say. "The florist will show you where."

"Yes, miss."

I don't ask him whether he remembers.

I do.

That's enough.

Inside, Lucy is sorting folders into boxes.

She sees my face.

"What happened?"

"Nothing I need to stay for."

I sit beside her.

We finish the handover one vendor at a time.

I remove my personal payment details.

Return samples.

Label the sketches that belong to me.

The menu tasting notes stay. My mother's handwritten place cards come home.

Martin calls twice.

The second time, he sounds irritated.

"Serena wants to know why the process is so formal."

"Because I'm no longer involved after Wednesday."

"There's no need to make this difficult."

"I'm making it clear."

He pauses.

"You've always been so accommodating."

"Yes."

I look at the boxes around me.

"I have."

After lunch, Julian sends a message.

Serena feels you're being cold.

I read it.

Then turn the phone facedown.

Lucy notices.

"Do you want to answer?"

"No."

For three years, I have explained myself to him.

Why I wanted a date.

Why another canceled appointment upset me.

Why I cried when my mother asked whether she would live long enough to see me get married.

Every explanation somehow ended with me apologizing.

I'm tired.

I don't want to spend the rest of my life finding gentler ways to tell him he has hurt me.

I'm closing the last box when a woman appears in the doorway.

She carries a tablet and wears the bright, fixed smile of someone delivering an unpleasant instruction she hasn't had to invent herself.

"Miss Bennett? I'm Paige. Serena's assistant."

I stand.

"Does she need something from the files?"

"Mr. Whitmore and the bride would like to see you."

Lucy looks up sharply.

"The bride has a wedding consultant. Audrey is leaving."

Paige keeps smiling.

"This is something only Miss Bennett can help with."

"What is it?" I ask.

"Serena would prefer to explain in person."

I pick up my bag.

Lucy catches my eye.

"You can say no."

"I know."

Paige's smile thins.

"They're waiting in the library."

As we walk, she glances at my bag.

"You won't need to bring that. This shouldn't take long."

I keep it on my shoulder.

I'm learning not to put down the things I intend to leave with.