Chapter 8

Over the next few days, Elliott came by every day. Leaving flowers, pastries, little sketched notes slid under the door. He played the part of the penitent lover perfectly.

On the fifth night, he called, his voice unusually solemn. "Freda, I had a long talk with my mother. She's stepping back from the wedding planning. We can do whatever you want."

I remained quiet for a moment. "Really?"

"Really." He paused, his voice dropping into a cautious, delicate tone. "There is... one thing we need to discuss, though."

"What's that?"

"The guest list. As you know, the people attending are mostly from my father's business circles and the art world. My dad was thinking..."

"Thinking what?"

"Well... it's going to be a very formal affair. We're worried your parents might feel out of place, or that they'd just feel uncomfortable with all the cameras and formality. My dad suggested it might be easier on them if we set up a private, high-quality live stream for them to watch from home. Then, right after the wedding, we can fly back to their town and host a quiet, intimate family dinner. It'll be much more relaxed for them."

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles ached. "Elliott. Are you telling me my parents aren't allowed to attend my own wedding?"

"It's not that they aren't allowed, Freda. It's just... finding a way that's more comfortable for everyone."

"Comfortable for everyone, or comfortable for your parents?"

"Freda, please listen to me. I've taken a lot of heat for this relationship already. My mother wanted me to marry Senator Ward's daughter, and I said no. My dad's friends told him I was throwing my life away, and I fought them all off. I fought my entire family to be with you. They are making one small request—"

"A small request?" I cut him off, my voice barely a whisper. "Telling my parents they can't watch their only daughter get married is a small request?"

"Freda, can you try to see this from my perspective? I've made so many compromises." He sighed, his voice reverting to that gentle, condescending tone. "Be reasonable, sweetheart. As soon as the reception is over, I promise we'll drive down to see them. We can even bring them back to the city to stay with us for a month, okay?"

I didn't say yes. I didn't say no.

"I understand," I said quietly.