Rory’s heart clunked to the bottom of her stomach.
“You’ve always had a soft spot for the less…fortunate. It was like you saw it as your purpose, your chance to make a difference. I want you to know that I will stand by your side, even when I can see that you're making a mistake taking on projects that aren’t yours to transform because I will always be here for you, through thick and thin.” Lenora extended the glass in the direction of James and Rory as she finished. “Congratulations to you both, and good luck.”
After Lenora took her seat, the room remained silent as the audience had been stunned into silence. A few people threw furtive glances at the two people the dinner had been in honor of.
Rory felt like she was going to be ill. She felt like nothing. That’s how Lenora had described her, and her blatant refusal to acknowledge her by name in her speech proved she would never see the need to treat her any differently.
“Rory…” James spoke softly from beside her.
“I need to get out of here,” were the first words out of her own mouth.
“What? Now?” James asked, surprised. “Rory, just let me—”
But she wasn’t listening.
The chair scraped against the tiled floor as she pushed it back and shot to her feet. Her family and friends stared at her in concern. Andrea rose to her feet, staring at her daughter in apprehension.
“Rory,” James said helplessly, reaching for her hand, but she subtly shrugged off his hand, held her head straight and walked out of the restaurant.
As soon as the cold winter air rushed across her face, the bitter reality hit her— she couldn’t get married to James, not in this current state. A guttural sob escaped her lips as she sagged against the restaurant, her knees on the brink of buckling beneath her.
She heard the soft jostle of the door opening, but she was too pained to care who had just stepped through. A pair of hands lifted her under her arms until she was leaning against them as they hugged her tightly. This time Rory sobbed louder, the tears clamoring over each other as they flowed rapidly down her cheeks and dripped from her chin.
“I-I c-can’t believe sh-she d-d-did that,” Rory stuttered through her tears.
“I can. It’s because she’s a real witch, a pointy ear, green face filled with pimples and long talons for fingernails witch,” Shianne spat matter-of-factly. This earned a chuckle from Rory.
As the two separated, Shianne reached up to wipe the tears from her face with the napkin she’d brought.
“Where’s my mother?” she asked, trying to get a glimpse of what was going on inside.
“She’s talking-arguing with the monster-in-law.”
Rory sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
“Hey, don’t think about that now. How do you feel?” Shianne asked, looking into her eyes.
“Ro.”
She looked behind Shianne to see James standing there, eyes tired and a look of desperation on his face.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Shianne moved away from Rory and stepped back inside.
“I had no idea Mom was going to do that,” he spoke, his voice shaky.
Rory inclined her head in agreement as she stared out at the darkness.
“Ro. Look at me…please.”
Taking in a deep breath to steel herself against the numbing cold and whatever he had to say, she spoke, “The wedding is off, James.”
“No, don’t say that. Ro. I love you. My mom doesn’t factor into this. What she said in there was because she realized that she lost.”
“That’s just it, James,” she stopped him with a shake of her head before looking him squarely in the eyes. The dim lamp lights reflected against his translucent blue irises, now glistening with unshed tears of his own.
“I am not in competition with Lenora— it should have never gotten to that point. All I wanted was for her to like me and not be in a constant fight with her about who knows you better or whose opinion matters most to you. I am tired, James. I don’t want to do this anymore— I can’t do this for the rest of our marriage.”
“I know,” James readily replied. He ran his fingers through his hair frantically. “Please, Rory…just let me talk to her. I can’t lose you.”
