My mother’s smile stayed calm. “That was a long time ago.”
“I still have those magazine spreads,” Beatrice insisted, suddenly eager. “You disappeared so suddenly.”
“I found another calling,” my mother said simply. “One that made me happier.”
David’s arm slid around my waist, warm and steady. He looked at me like he was seeing a new chapter of my story, not with surprise, but with pride.
Margaret sank slowly into her chair, speechless for perhaps the first time in her life.
I turned toward her, keeping my voice gentle because cruelty wasn’t my language.
“So you see, Margaret,” I said, “while I appreciate your guidance, I do have resources of my own. And more importantly, I know exactly who I am and where I come from… even if you made some incorrect assumptions.”
Margaret opened her mouth, closed it again, then looked down at the dress like it might rewrite itself.
Elena clapped her hands decisively, breaking the tension.
“Now,” she said brightly, “shall we discuss the rest of the wedding party? I brought sample designs.”
Margaret blinked. “Designs?”