Chapter 4: The Truth Behind the Invitation
I looked from Aunt Elena to Giovanni.
“If I hear you out, it’s because I want the information,” I said. “Not because you need me to make this introduction easier.”
“I understand,” Elena replied.
Giovanni’s jaw shifted, but he didn’t interrupt.
I glanced back toward Sophia. She was speaking with one of the bridesmaids, but she saw me looking and gave a small, questioning lift of her eyebrows. I pointed toward the nearby alcove, then held up one finger. A minute. Maybe five.
She nodded.
“Somewhere quieter,” I said. “And I want the door open.”
Elena’s expression flickered—not quite surprise, not quite offense.
“Of course.”
The alcove was barely more than a recessed space between the ballroom and the corridor. It offered a little distance from the music, but the open doorway kept the reception in view. I could still see Sophia’s white dress moving among the guests. I could still see the dessert table.
Cake for Lily. Then home.
I kept that promise in mind as Elena turned to face me.
“Start with the Vales,” I said. “Who are they, and what exactly has been scheduled?”
“They’re a family our family has done business with for years,” Elena said. “The relationship is valuable to both sides. There have been conversations about deepening it.”
“By arranging a marriage?”
“By encouraging one.”
“That sounds like a polite way to say the same thing.”
“It is a polite way to describe an expectation,” she said. “Not an agreement.”
I folded my arms. “Did Giovanni agree?”
“No.”
Giovanni stood just behind his aunt, close enough to hear but not between us.
“Did the Vales’ daughter agree?”
Elena paused.
“Not to anything formal.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“No,” she said. “I don’t know what she has been told or what she wants.”
The answer was candid, which didn’t make it comforting.
“So nobody has agreed to marry anybody,” I said. “There’s no contract. No date. Nothing signed.”
“Nothing like that.”
“And yet people are treating this like it’s settled.”
“Some people believe that an introduction is the first step toward a decision already made.”
I looked at Giovanni. “Do you?”
“No.”
“Then why did you need a fake wife?”
He lowered his eyes for the briefest moment.
“I wanted to make the introduction impossible.”
“By telling people I was your wife.”
“Yes.”
The plainness of his answer stung more than an excuse would have.
“You made me part of a lie before you’d even asked if I understood what it meant.”
“I did.”
“And then you introduced me to people like the lie was a favor you’d done me.”
“I was wrong.”
I had heard apologies that were only requests for a person to stop being angry. This one didn’t ask anything of me, but it didn’t undo the evening, either.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the Vales when you asked me to dance?”
“I should have.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I thought you might refuse if you knew the whole situation.”
“So you gave me less information so I’d be more likely to say yes.”
“Yes.”
He didn’t look away. I wished he had. It would have made him easier to dismiss.
Elena’s gaze moved to her nephew. “You’ve managed to make your problem her problem.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” I asked.
Giovanni took a breath. “I wanted an ally. I used your presence as a shield, and I let people believe more than you had agreed to. I’m sorry.”
The word sat between us.
I thought of the ballroom: heads turning, guests lowering their voices, Tyler watching. I thought of the way strangers’ attention had followed me when all I’d wanted was to dance for ten seconds and get home to my daughter.
“I’m not going to be leverage against your aunt,” I said. “Or the Vales. Or Tyler.”
“You won’t be.”
“You can’t promise what other people will think. You can promise what you’ll say.”
“You’re right.”
“No more calling me your wife. No more letting people assume it. No more touching my hand to make a point or standing next to me like I’m proof you’ve already made your choice.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
His voice was quiet, but it didn’t sound uncertain.
“Then correct what you said,” I told him. “To the people you told. Tonight.”
“I will.”
“Not later, when it’s convenient.”
“Tonight.”
Elena looked between us. “That seems reasonable.”
“I didn’t ask you to approve it,” I said.
“No,” she replied. “You didn’t.”
For a moment, the only sound was the distant swell of the wedding band. I could see a waiter carrying a tray past the alcove. The reception kept going, indifferent to whether I had just become part of some family business conversation or escaped one.
“I’m staying for the cake,” I said. “For my daughter. Then I’m leaving.”
“Understood,” Elena said.
“And I’m not staying to meet anyone because their family expects it.”
“I won’t ask you to.”
Giovanni’s eyes met mine. “If you want me to leave you alone for the rest of the night, I will.”
I believed he meant it. That didn’t mean I trusted him.
“I want you to correct the lie. After that, don’t make decisions for me.”
“I won’t.”
I turned toward the ballroom.
Giovanni fell in beside me, leaving enough space between us that nobody could mistake it for a romantic gesture. Elena followed a few steps behind. No hand at my waist. No whispered explanation. No performance.
Near the alcove, Giovanni stopped.
“Jessica.”
I turned.
“I’ll speak to the Bells and anyone else I told,” he said. “I’ll make clear you agreed to one dance. Nothing more.”
“Good.”
He went back into the ballroom without waiting for me to take his arm.
I watched him cross to Mr. and Mrs. Bell. He spoke quietly at first. Then Mr. Bell glanced toward me, and Giovanni shook his head once, as if correcting more than a word. Mrs. Bell’s expression softened. She nodded.
It wasn’t a grand announcement. It wasn’t a public show of remorse. But he was telling the truth where he had lied.
I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Sophia appeared at my side.
“You okay?”
“I’m deciding.”
“Fair.”
“I’m getting Lily’s cake, and then I’m going home.”
“I’ll have someone pack some for you.”
“Thank you.”
She squeezed my arm, then went to find a server. Beyond her, Tyler was still near the edge of the dance floor. His attention had shifted to Giovanni, but I didn’t need to know what he thought. Not tonight.
Elena approached me again.
“I should tell you one more thing,” she said.
“Is this about the Vales?”
“Yes.”
May you like
I looked toward the entrance. Guests were coming and going beneath the chandeliers, carrying coats and gifts, their faces bright with wine and wedding excitement.
“The daughter is already on her way to the reception,” Elena said.
