No armor of crystals.
Across my shoulders lay my grandmother’s restored lace.
I touched it.
And began crying.
Madame Laurent leaned closer.
“Eleanor chose the lace placement herself.”
“What?”
“She left sketches.”
My chest tightened.
“She knew?”
“She hoped.”
Madame Laurent smiled.
“She said the outside should look like everything the Bellmont family expected a woman to be.”
My fingers moved across the lace.
“And underneath?”
Her smile deepened.
“She wrote, ‘Underneath, let Claire look like herself.’”
That broke me.
I covered my face.
Adrian waited.
He didn’t rush toward me.
He didn’t turn the moment into his.
He simply stood there until I reached for his hand.
This time, I took it.
“Still want to marry into this family?”
I whispered.
He looked toward the doors where my mother had disappeared.
Then toward Vanessa.
Then back at me.
“No.”
I blinked.
He smiled.
“I want to marry you.”
The officiant cleared his throat.
Several guests laughed through tears.
And after the strangest forty minutes any of us would ever experience at a wedding, the ceremony finally began.
We changed the vows.
The original ones suddenly seemed too polished.
Too safe.
When it was Adrian’s turn, he looked at me.
“I can’t promise I’ll always understand what’s happening.”
Laughter moved through the ballroom.
He smiled.
“That has become very clear.”
I laughed.
Then his expression softened.
“But I promise that when things get difficult, I will ask before I assume.
I will listen before I judge.
And I will never require you to make yourself smaller so I can feel secure.”
My eyes filled.
When it was my turn, I looked at him.
Then at my grandmother’s lace.
“I spent most of my life believing love was something you competed for.”
Across the room, Vanessa lowered her head.
“I thought if someone loved another person more, there would be less left for me.”
My voice shook.
“I don’t believe that anymore.”
I looked at Adrian.
“I promise not to punish you for wounds you didn’t create.
I promise to tell you when I’m afraid instead of pretending I’m strong.
And I promise that whatever happens around us, I will never make our love a contest.”
When we exchanged rings, the entire ballroom stood.
Not because Camille told them.
They simply did.
When Adrian kissed me, I heard applause.
But my eyes were closed.
For once, I didn’t care who was watching.
Vanessa didn’t stay for the reception.
Before leaving, she found me alone near the terrace.
The sun had disappeared.
The lake looked black beneath the October sky.
She had changed out of the stolen gown.
It lay folded inside a garment bag beside the door.
“Madame Laurent says she wants it back,” Vanessa said.
“I imagine she does.”
Silence.
Then Vanessa handed me something.
A small silver hairpin.
It had belonged to our grandmother.
“I took this too.”
I stared at it.
“When?”
“After she died.”
I almost laughed.
“Of course you did.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I was angry.”
“At me?”
“At everyone.”
She looked toward the ballroom.
“Mostly myself.”
I took the pin.
She started walking away.
“Vanessa.”
She stopped.
I had a thousand things I could have said.
Cruel things.
True things.
Forgiving things.
I chose none of them.
