“What can I do? He keeps this up, your mental health is going to be ruined, and there’s going to be nothing left.”
“There’s always you,” he mutters. “That’s all I’ve worked for. Not him and his bullshit company.”
I touch his forearm, nestling closer because his warm sentiment hints that my old Bobby is still there.
He’s just super stressed out and overloaded.
“I love you, Bobby,” I profess wholeheartedly. “Let’s just get this big wedding over with and on our honeymoon, where you’ll have a few days of no Harding Holdings to deal with. It’ll be great.”
“It’ll be perfect. You trust me?”
That’s the second time he’s asked that, and now I’m moresuspicious. “With what?” He only stares at me, and I feel his rebellious streak coming to a head again. “Bobby, are we about to piss your whole family off? Mainly your father?”
For the first time since last night, the corners of his lips hike upward. “Would that be so bad?”
“No,” I drawl. “But, I don’t want you to suffer any of the repercussions of it afterward.”
“I can guarantee that’s not going to be an issue.”
“Really?”
“Most definitely.”
Naturally, I’m already on board. Anything he wants to do, I’m fully in support of.
“Then I’m all in.”
Chapter 6
Meirna
“As one would expect, I’dneverconsider the woods as an appropriate place for a wedding. The insects and dirt alone for such an occasion would ruin all the hard work and money thrown into it. I’m not surprised she’s getting divorced. I’d never put my only son into such a stressful and undeniable failure. Tomorrow is going to be spoken and modeled after for weddings to come. Oh, Marcia, I can’t wait for you to see it all.”
Catherine did and said everything but forgot to add my name in the mix.
Because that’s what I originally wanted.
A scenic, woodsy wedding with twinkling white lights and wooden chairs lining the ground for all to witness Bobby and my special day. A giant Christmas tree adorned in gold and silver ornaments with a few purple ones thrown in for a pop of color.
Catherine shot another one of my ideas down quicker than someone asking her if she could afford her next Botox appointment.
Immediate.
Vital.
Toocommon.
I’ve never brought the subject up again. So, why she’s talking about it with her friends who are currently surrounding me, I can only construe as her getting a quick jab.
To show me that, in this world, I don’t know a thing, nor will I ever have a say.
“Abigail was always a stupid little twit,” Marcia responds, bringing her wine glass to her lips. “Divorce was inevitable. Why I allowed Jordan to marry her…I beat myself up every day about it.”
“Oh, darling, you can’t expect yourself to know what these women are going to do,” Catherine assures her as if she truly cares that her friend has mentally been going through it. “You can only hope and plan for the best.”
Planning for the best would’ve been Catherine taking over the whole wedding process.
But I digress.
