“What?”
“I’m not canceling anything.”
“Sis…”
“If Danny wants his happy ending so badly, I’m going to give him one he’ll never forget.”
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I’m not canceling anything.
***
The next afternoon, my backyard filled with guests.
Danny looked delighted. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.”
Helen offered me her arm.
I’m going to give him one he’ll never forget.
Danny smiled when he saw her walking me down the aisle. “I’m glad you two worked things out.”
“Oh,” I said. “We’re working on it.”
The ceremony began.
Danny cried during his vows.
Then came my turn.
I’m glad you two worked things out.
“Do you take Danny to be your husband?”
I looked straight at him. “No.”
Silence.
Danny blinked. “What?”
“No.”
Then came my turn.
His face reddened. “Helen got to you.”
“Actually, your son did.”
Danny’s expression collapsed.
My nephew blurted, “Wait – you have another family?”
I continued. “Margaret wasn’t your nurse.”
Helen got to you.
“Please, Claire.”
“She was your partner for almost fifty years. The mother of your children. The woman you built an entire life with while I thought you were dead.”
“You’ve twisted the whole thing.”
“You never married her because you were still married to me.”
Danny said nothing.
Margaret wasn’t your nurse.
“And now suddenly you wanted another wedding. Funny how important our marriage became once Margaret was gone.”
“It’s not true.”
“You had children with her.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No. It was complicated yesterday. Today it’s remarkably simple.”
Funny how important our marriage became.
He stepped closer. “Let me explain privately.”
“Why? You explained my sister’s supposed betrayal publicly enough.”
Helen cut in. “Tell her who paid your bills, Danny.”
He shot her a look.
I turned back to him. “Margaret supported you for years. When she died, most of what she had went to your children.”
Today it’s remarkably simple.
“That was manipulated.”
“And when they stopped supporting you, you went looking for someone who might.”
Danny stared at me.
I smiled sadly. “That’s when you found me.”
“That’s not what happened.”
Margaret supported you for years.
“No? Because you seemed awfully interested in whether my house was paid off.”
His face changed.
“And my will.”
“Sweetheart…”
“Don’t call me that.”
You went looking for someone who might.
Someone behind me whispered, “This is better than television.”
“Shh,” my nephew said. “I want to hear this.”
I held his gaze. “You didn’t come back because you remembered your wife, Danny. You came back because you remembered what she owned.”
“That isn’t true. I thought about you.”
“How touching.”
This is better than television.
“I loved you.”
Danny stared at me.
Then he tried one last time. “We can still fix this.”
I looked at the man I’d mourned for most of my life.
And suddenly, I didn’t see my nineteen-year-old husband anymore.
I saw a stranger wearing his face.
