Richard stared.
“What?”
“The welcome bags.”
“The second floral install.”
“The upgraded linens.”
“You knew.”
He closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“How bad was it when I added things?”
“Not because of the wedding.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Richard looked toward her.
Victoria had married him thirty-one years earlier when neither had money.
People now treated her like a woman born knowing the difference between charger plates.
She had built that version carefully.
The wedding had become part celebration, part social event, part proof that their family remained exactly where everyone expected.
Richard knew that.
He had encouraged it.
“You added maybe twelve thousand after Harbor Crescent became serious.”
Victoria sat.
Her face went pale.
“You could have said no.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“Because I did not want my son’s wedding to become the first public sign I was failing.”
There.
Victoria looked at him.
“Failing?”
“The company is not dead.”
“Richard.”
He rubbed his face.
“I don't know.”
She had never heard him say that.
Not in thirty-one years.
Richard always knew.
Or performed knowing.
Victoria asked:
“Are we broke?”
“No.”
“What does that mean?”
“We have assets.”
“Debt.”
“Company equity.”
“House equity.”
“Retirement.”
“Future distributions.”
“Stop.”
She stared.
“How much cash do we actually have?”
He told her.
She cried.
Not because $150,000 was poverty.
It was not.
Because their life cost more than that.
Because she had mistaken asset values for liquidity.
Because they had been behaving like people who could absorb any expense while Richard quietly rearranged obligations behind the scenes.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
Richard laughed sadly.
“Apparently tonight has a theme.”
Victoria looked away.
Then:
“Did you think I would leave?”
“No.”
“Did you think I would panic?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
“Fair.”
“That doesn't make it right.”
“No.”
She looked toward the closet filled with outfits for the next three days.
“How much did this weekend matter to you?”
“What?”
“The appearance.”
Richard did not answer quickly enough.
Victoria understood.
“More than I want to admit.”
“Yes.”
She began removing jewelry.
“We return what we can.”
“Victoria.”
“After the wedding.”
“Unused things.”
“Second brunch.”
“We cancel.”
“Guests already—”
“Can feed themselves Sunday.”
Richard almost smiled.
She looked at him.
“And after Andrew gets married, you tell me everything about Harbor Crescent.”
“Yes.”
“No summaries.”
“Yes.”
“No ‘manageable.’”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She slept badly.
So did Richard.
Eleanor slept worse.