The room went utterly silent.
Kitty gasped. Jane covered her mouth. Mom made a sound that might have been prayer.
“Meri Bennet,” Collin declared, opening the velvet box to reveal a ring almost as ugly as his haircut. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, thereby ensuring the Snowdrop Inn remains in capable hands and our families properly aligned?”
I felt the universe tilt slightly on its axis.
Meri looked down at him. Then she looked at the ring. Then she looked around the room, taking in the stunned faces, the expectant silence, the sheer absurdity of it all.
Finally, she spoke.
“No.”
The word was delivered in a calm and absolute tone.
Collin frowned. “I beg your pardon?”
“No,” Meri repeated, louder this time. “I won’t marry you. I don’t really wish to marry anyone. I’m perfectly content being single. Plus, really Collin? You are way too old for me, have a bad haircut, and just can’t take rejection. The answer is no.”
A ripple of laughter broke through the crowd, quick and startled.
Collin rose slowly, clearly convinced there had been a misunderstanding. “Perhaps you are overwhelmed.”
“No,” Meri said evenly. “I am saying no”
His expression shifted to something injured. “You would turn down such an opportunity?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “Without hesitation.”
Kitty let out a triumphant whoop before clapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. Reflex.”
Meri folded her arms, unbothered by the attention now swirling around her. “I wish you well, Collin. But please don’t ever mistake my courtesy for interest again.”
The silence broke fully then, laughter and murmurs spreading through the room. Collin stood there, cheeks flushed, dignity wobbling under the weight of reality.
“This family is utterly ungrateful,” he muttered, shaking his head.
He snapped the box shut, tucked the flowers under his arm, and stalked toward the exit with all the drama of a man convinced he had been wronged by history itself.
As the doors closed behind him, the Bennets collectively exhaled.
Jane laughed, a bright, relieved sound. Kitty pumped her fist. Mom wiped at her eyes, smiling through it.
Meri lifted her glass. “Well, that was unpleasant.”
I laughed then, fully and freely, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep and unguarded.
And for the first time in a long while, I felt certain that whatever came next, we would meet it standing together.
The laughter was still echoing when Meri set her glass down with a deliberate movement that somehow cut through the noise better than any announcement could have.
“There’s one more thing,” she announced to us. We all turned toward her again, the aftershocks of Collin’s departure still buzzing through us. Kitty looked delighted. Jane looked curious. Mom’s smile faltered slightly, as if she sensed the shape of something serious beneath the humor.
Meri reached into her clutch and pulled out a slim envelope.
“I was going to wait until we were home,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “But since we’re already having a night of revelations, it feels appropriate.”
She handed the envelope to Mom.
