“It’s cooled off enough. Want some?”
I nod.
He holds the cup and tips it into my mouth. He tips it a little too much, and I end up downing half the cup before he tips it back up.
“Good?”
I nod. No point in arguing about his lousy cup-holding technique.
There’s a beep, then the door opens, and his parents walk in.
“Okay, I guess it’s time,” John says as he grabs his jacket.He turns to me. “Piper, I never wanted things to go this way. Please remember that.”
Remember that?Oh, I’ll remember everything these assholes did when I’m on the stand testifying against all of them.
“Wait, before you leave, I want to show you the photos,” Patsy says. She holds up her phone and shows John the screen.
He smiles. “Those are perfect.”
“And there’s a video.”
I listen as the minister asks if I take John as my husband. My voice says, “Yes, I do.”
“What? How did you…” Then I remember when John asked if I wanted him to untie me. “You edited that to make it look like I actually wanted to marry you?”
Tom turns to me. “We didn’t have a choice. You keep telling everyone you are done with John. There’s no way they’d believe it otherwise.”
Everyone? I told my sister and my mother. “By ‘they,’ you mean you need this to convince my parents.”
Tom chuckles. “You catch on quick.”
“Why?”
Tom crosses his arms. “Because they are no longer on board with this relationship, thanks to your big mouth. You told them he hit you and shot you? Now they are pulling away from us as well!”
“I told them the truth.”
“The truth!” Tom shouts. He takes a deep breath and appears to be composing himself. “Well, it put a wrinkle inour plan. But we came together as we always do and found a solution.”
I glance at John, who is avoiding my eyes. Patsy is staring at the floor.
“This is your solution? To make it look like I married John? Why?”
John walks over to me and bends down. He cups my cheek. “Hey, don’t worry about that. I really did care for you. And truly, I wish things could be different.”
I frown. “You’ve already said that. What’s going on, John?”
He straightens up. “I need to go.” Without another word, he walks out the door. “Oh no, we don’t need service,” he says loudly in the hallway. “My wife needs her rest, if you know what I mean.” His laughter fades as he walks down the hall.
His parents sit on the bed but avoid my gaze.
“What did John mean by that? He never wanted things to go this way and wishes it was different?”
His mom looks over at me. “It’s best if you don’t ask questions.”
“If you tell me what’s going on, I won’t ask questions,” I say.
They both ignore me.
