I look around and see a frantic Margot. She’s in a gorgeous classic wedding dress. It’s pure white with off the shoulder sleeves. It drapes across her chest beautifully and dips in the center, displaying her cleavage perfectly. It falls into a full skirt with a train. The back fastens in a row of buttons.
Mrs. Montclair is behind her with a crochet hook, trying to button them, but when Margot sees me, she flies forward and launches herself in my arms.
“Cecilia, I’m so glad you’re here! Everything’s been so hectic, and I need you to calm me down. Our day-of coordinator didn’t show up, so the boys have been running around with a list. At this point, as long as Matthias is waiting for me at the end of the aisle, I’m calling it a success.” She sighs dramatically with her hand on her forehead, then drops to the ground theatrically.
“Margot! You’re going to get your dress dirty! Stand up. I know it’s been crazy, but sweet Cecilia is here, and she’ll help,” Mrs. Montclair scolds Margot in a maternal way, then shoots me a pleading look.
“I’m here for whatever you need,” I assure her.
I can’t help the smile that forms. Everything feels normal with them. It’s like I never left.
“I’m sorry for–” I start, needing to get it off my chest.
“You’re not allowed to be sorry for anything. We’re so sorry for keeping everything from you. We all told Roman multiple times that he needed to tell you about the Syndicate. And I know more than that happened to make you leave, but Matthias won’t tell me. I think he’s scared I’ll actually murder his brother if I find out. Fucking Roman! He’s lucky to be here, at the wedding and alive. We were so worried when you were gone,but now that you’re back, he’s on my shit list.” Margot stops her rant to get off the ground and holds my hands. “If you want to get away from him, we’ll help. We’ve all been talking, and we’ll keep you from him if that’s what you want.”
“Damien and I will help too. You’re a daughter to us, and that won’t change even if you leave Roman. We love you,” Mrs. Montclair tells me.
I’m moved by their loyalty to me. I didn’t expect it at all, and I take a moment to process it.
“I’ll kill him if you want. Rat poison in his champagne tonight. What’s a wedding without a little homicide?” Margot whispers in my ear.
I laugh, caught off guard, but am cut off by Margot’s serious expression.
“No! You can’t!” I start, then glance at the engagement ring I’m wearing.
“You’re forgiving him? After all he’s done?” Margot stares incredulously.
He’s held true to his word. He hasn’t mentioned his offer to me again, but I see the hesitation in his eyes. His longing glances. He knows I could call it at any moment.
But I won’t.
“Despite all he’s done, he’s still the man I love. I’m working on forgiving him. He’s been remorseful and patient. He’s been perfect,” I tell her.
“Good. He better be kissing the floor you walk on. If you ever need to get away from him again, Matthias and I will house you for as long as you need,” Margot offers.
The door opens, and an unfamiliar woman scurries in.
She’s short, with dark curls, and brown eyes.She looks just like her daughter.
“Margot, the florist finally arrived, and all the flowers are set up. The only thing left to do is get you ready,” Margot’s mother says.
“Thank God!” Margot shouts.
Her mother turns to me.
“Hello, dear. You must be Cecilia. I am so relieved you’re here. Margot kept saying if Matthias can’t be here to put her at ease, that you could.” The sweet woman says.
Margot’s mom pulls me into a hug which I return. I guess they’re all huggers.
Margot frets around the room some more, while Mrs. Montclair and her mother chase her down with crochet hooks in hand.
I grab my jade green gown and change into it. I already did my makeup and hair at home, so I’m set to go.
Mrs. Montclair comes to me when she’s finished buttoning Margot’s gown and straightens my dress.
“You look beautiful, dear. We’re so happy you’re here. And I can’t wait until we’re doing this for you, if you’ll still have my son,” she says kindly, then goes back to the bride.
I don’t have the heart to correct her. To tell her it’s too late. That her son tricked me into marriage, and neither she nor my family were there to witness it. I was barely even there.
