Chapter 10
I didn't go back to main table. I went to side service corridor where coats and bags waited on folding rack. My tote sat behind Andre's sister's shawl, black canvas, zipper half-open exactly how I'd left it. Papers inside not visible. Weight still right when I lifted it. Hostess at door tried to help. I shook head. Held glitter clutch in left hand, tote handle in right. Silver gown caught on rack edge. I freed it.
Side exit door was heavy, metal bar across middle. I remembered that door from rehearsal walk-through weeks earlier, before Andre told me to leave house. Staff used it to bring cake in. Now it was my way out. I checked hallway. No guests. String lights from banquet hall spilled across marble floor to door threshold. Beyond threshold, concrete.
I pushed bar. Door gave.
Cold hit first. November night parking lot air sharp, damp. Banquet hall chandeliers threw warm gold behind me. Concrete outside swallowed that light. Marble to concrete transition felt loud under heels. One step I was still inside, warm air on bare shoulders, perfume and champagne smell. Next step outside, wind lifted sheer draping on shoulders, chilled skin. Breath showed. I heard door sigh shut behind me, latch click. Warmth cut off.
I stood under overhang a second. Let eyes adjust. Parking lot stretched out, half-full. Cars, puddles reflecting hall windows, distant highway hum. My gown shimmered still, out of place in cold. Bracelet cold against wrist now. I hadn't realized how hot I'd been inside until cold found me.
I took deep breath. First real one since I walked toward Andre. Air hurt a little going in, clean and thin. I felt chest rise under beaded straps. Exhale shook. Another breath, slower. Chandelier hall had been heavy, perfumed, everyone watching. Outside, no eyes. Just cold and my own breathing. I felt shoulders drop. Thigh slit let wind through. I didn't cover it. Let cold stay.
Tote strap dug into palm. I switched clutch to right hand, tugged phone from tote's front pocket with left. Screen lit my hands. One new text, timestamp 8:42 pm. From Diane.
Diane: Copy of deed and separate property declaration filed with County Clerk yesterday 3:14 pm. Stamped. You're secured. No need to file anything tonight. Keep original safe.
I read twice. Thumb hovered over screen. Yesterday. That meant before gala, before cake, before Andre's question. Filed. Stamped. County record. I felt knot behind ribs loosen, not all way, but enough to breathe deeper. I slipped phone back. Tote still against hip. Deed copy done. Original still with me. Legal weight no longer just in my hands.
Wind pushed again. Door behind me stayed shut. I could leave now. My car parked three rows over, silver Honda I'd driven from apartment. Keys in tote. I could walk, drive away, be gone before Andre or his mother came out. Part of me wanted that. Easier to disappear into parking lot dark, deal with rest tomorrow.
I looked at lot, then back at door. Gold light leaked around frame. I knew his mother would follow. She'd watched me walk away twice now, once inside, once when I returned key. She held champagne bottle earlier, then watched me leave. She knew what Andre said weeks ago. She'd poured champagne and pretended not to hear before. Now she couldn't.
I stepped away from door, but not toward car. Moved to concrete pillar near side wall, out of direct wind, still visible from exit. Set tote down between feet, clutch on top. Adjusted bracelet. Stood with back to brick, facing door.
May you like
I decided to wait. Not run. Not hide. If she wanted final talk, I would give it here, outside, cold air keeping words honest. No chandelier glow to soften anything. No guests to perform for. Just parking lot, concrete, and truth we'd both avoided.
Door stayed shut but light inside still warm. I waited. Breath steady now. Tote secure at feet, deed filed, air cold on skin, and I didn't move toward car.
