“I’m sorry.”
Richard gave a bitter laugh.
“A little late.”
She looked at Camille.
“To you.”
Not Richard.
“I should have corrected the record without making you learn this in front of seventy people.”
Camille stared.
“Did Andrew know?”
“No.”
Andrew answered before anyone else.
“No.”
She looked at him.
He seemed devastated.
Good, in a strange way.
His confusion was real.
Camille turned back toward Marcus.
“Was I ever going to know?”
Marcus swallowed.
“After the wedding.”
Her expression hardened.
“Of course.”
The phrase was quiet.
It hurt him more than shouting would have.
The rehearsal dinner did not end immediately.
That would have been cleaner.
Real gatherings had logistics.
Food sitting on tables.
Guests from three states.
Grandparents who could not easily stand.
Children who sensed tension but understood nothing.
A wedding planner trapped near the ballroom doors, trying to decide whether dessert service still existed.
Andrew stepped forward.
“Everybody.”
His voice carried.
He looked pale.
“This obviously became a family conversation before it should have.”
One cousin almost laughed from nerves.
Andrew continued.
“Dinner is still dinner.”
“Please eat.”
“Drink.”
“Talk about literally anything else.”
A few people smiled weakly.
He looked toward the quartet.
“Can you guys play?”
The violinist nodded.
Music returned.
Conversation did not.
Not naturally.
But it began.
Marcus leaned toward Camille.
“Come outside with me.”
She stared.
Then followed.
Andrew started to go too.
Camille stopped him.
“Give me five minutes.”
He nodded.
That hurt him.
Still, he stayed.
Marcus walked through the French doors onto a narrow terrace overlooking King Street.
Night air replaced chandeliers.
Carriage wheels clattered somewhere below.
Camille folded both arms.
“Start.”
Marcus loosened his tie.
“I was going to tell you.”
“After.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you had four weeks before your wedding when I learned there was a problem.”
“Three.”
“What?”
“Four weeks ago was before the final fittings.”
“Dad.”
He nodded.
“Right.”
Camille’s eyes filled.
“How did you even know?”
Marcus looked toward the street.
“Lydia called me.”
Their wedding planner.
Camille stared.
“Why you?”
“You listed me as emergency contact.”
“For medical emergencies.”
“She considered losing the venue a different kind.”
Despite herself, Camille almost smiled.
It vanished.
Marcus continued.
“The Briarwood payment failed.”
“Richard told them it was a bank issue.”
“Then catering called Lydia because their second payment had not cleared.”
“The transportation company required a new card.”
“Two hotel guarantees were nearing cancellation.”
Camille covered her mouth.
Marcus continued carefully.
“Lydia did not want to call you because Richard told her his accountant was fixing it.”