“Better than I expected,” I say, sinking into his arms. “Meredith and Grant are open.”
“Really?” he asks incredulously.
“Yeah. Meredith spent last night with Derrick.”
Hudson lifts an eyebrow in surprise. “That guy never takes a day off, does he?”
“He really doesn’t,” I sniffle.
Hudson uses his thumb to wipe away a stray tear. “So, if things went okay, why are you crying?”
“I guess I’m just processing,” I say, reaching into my back pocket to pull out my phone. “Because Phoebe sent me an email last night.”
“Have you read it?”
I shake my head. “I tried. But with everything going on, I didn’t know if it would help any. But now I think I need to.”
“Do you want me to give you some privacy?” he asks, raking a hand through his curls.
“Can you stay?”
“Always,” he says, resting his chin on my shoulder and giving me a squeeze.
Taking a deep breath, I open the email with shaky hands.
Mira,
I know this apology is too late, but I felt you deserved one. I realize now in my haste to cover up my insecurities and fears, I created so many for you. I left that review in a moment of weakness, believing that if I placed the blame onto you, I wouldn’t have to face the truth. But I’ve learned that pushing a problem away doesn’t make it disappear. If anything, it eats at a person until they are doomed to face it head-on. Cliff left me a few weeks ago. He said he’d fallen in love with someone else, someone he had been seeing off and on for the entirety of our relationship. Someone I found out about a few days before our wedding. When I confronted him about it, I believed him when he said it was over, that he would never do anything like that again, and that he was ready to start a new life together. I loved this man, and like everyone I understood that people make mistakes. I thought that marriage might be a clean slate for us. So when you came into that room and told me what happened, it wasn’t that I didn’t believe you. It was that Icouldn’t face it. I wanted it to go away. And so I unleashed my misplaced anger onto you. More than that I knew that I’d never be able to keep our friendship and stay in my relationship, so I chose him. And that was my biggest mistake.
I’d been keeping his indiscretions a secret from everyone: my family, my friends, you. I couldn’t bear to have people look at me with pity and concern, to force me to face the reality that the man I loved was not who I thought he was. I didn’t want the judgment, the shame of it, so I blamed you. I punished you, and I’ve spent these last few weeks punishing myself for it.
I want you to know I took down the review. I’ve also asked all the wedding venues I know to add you as a preferred vendor. I know that you won’t want to work together, so I made sure that an associate will be the lead on any upcoming events where we were originally paired. I understand if you never forgive me, I wouldn’t forgive me, but I need you to know that the loss of my marriage is nothing compared to the loss of your friendship. I miss you dearly, and I will regret my actions towards you for the rest of my life. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to reach out. And I do hope, one day, we might be able to be friends again.
Phoebe.
I close the message.
“How do you feel?” Hudson asks, as I oscillate from anger to pity to acceptance.
“I don’t know,” I say, truthfully. “I thought that I wanted an apology, or forgiveness, or reconciliation, but I think I just want to put it all behind me.”
Of all the nights I spent hoping to get an email like this, I realize that I didn’t want her forgiveness. If anything, I think I was waiting for her permission to move on. For years I let Phoebe dictate my choices. I changed my shooting style, my clothing, and my personality to fit into her world, to serve her clients, and now that I’ve been freed from those impossible standards I can’t imagine going back.
“I think after this I’m done with weddings for good,” I state. “I think I want to take some time to fall in love with photography again, my way. Shoot the images that I want. Make real art. Go back to my roots.”
After allowing weddings to sidetrack my goals for so long, I’m still thankful for all the things they brought me. That they awarded me a life I never imagined for myself. That they gave me the chance to run my own business, to create art for a living. That they reminded me of where I started, that they brought me back to Meredith and Vanessa, and reminded me of the friendship I’m worthy of. But more than that, weddings are what brought me Hudson. And even after I move on, I’ll always be grateful for that.
34 Hudson
Thanks to my proximity to the Activity Center, I catch up on a few emails, check in with my dad, who has sent me multiple photos of my new shiny office, and message Linda from HR about drafting a position for Content Creation and Photography.
After our conversation this morning, I wanted to offer the position to Mira then and there, to ask her to travel the world with me, to work beside me, and to help turn my father’s career into my dream job, but I knew she wouldn’t accept it. She said she wanted time to figure out what she wants for herself and I respect that. But after this is all over, I’m going to remind her that the offer will always be on the table.
From the kitchen window I see a crew of fifty milling about the ranch, hauling wooden tables and chairs onto the lawn, and stringing thousands of twinkling lights inside the sprawling white tent. Amelia follows them, clipboard in hand, no doubt making sure everything is to my mother’s exact specifications.
Susan hasn’t bothered to show her face on the property herself, most likely entertaining a beauty team of fifteen at the lodge. But her absence is probably for the best. Meredith deserves to have a stress-free morning. Sipping a cup of peppermint tea, I consider killing the next few hours reading until I see Vivianne struggling out on the lawn. She’s carrying two buckets of flowers down thehill, her shoulders sagging under the weight. I make my way over to her to help.
“Need a hand with that?” I ask as she sets one down.
