Chapter 4 - What Greg Had Told Everyone About Me
I thought Greg might faint.
Elise stood just inside the reception entrance, rain shining on the shoulders of her gray coat.
She was older than the woman in the photograph, of course.
So were we.
Her dark hair had silver at the temples.
Her face carried the careful composure of someone who knew she had entered a room at exactly the wrong moment.
Hannah looked from her father to the stranger.
“Who is that?”
Greg didn’t answer.
Elise did.
“I’m sorry.”
Her voice was quiet.
“I shouldn’t have come in.”
Hannah stepped forward.
“Do I know you?”
“No.”
“Did you know my mother?”
Elise looked at Greg.
That was enough.
Hannah’s face changed.
Ethan appeared beside her.
“What happened?”
Hannah held out the photograph.
“Apparently we’re finding out.”
Greg finally moved.
“Elise, why are you here?”
She reached inside her coat.
“I was asked to deliver something.”
“To who?”
She looked at me.
“Jenna.”
I nearly laughed from disbelief.
“Of course.”
Tonight had apparently been designed by someone who hated subtlety.
Elise removed a small padded envelope.
My name was printed on it.
Not handwritten.
“Hannah’s aunt contacted me yesterday,” she said.
Karen stared at her.
“I did not.”
Elise frowned.
“Then someone used your name.”
Every muscle in Greg’s body tightened.
“Who contacted you?”
“I received an email from an address with Karen’s name.”
Karen shook her head.
“Not me.”
Elise looked uncomfortable.
“They said the family had found Audrey’s letter and that I should return what she left with me.”
Hannah whispered, “Mom left something with you?”
“Yes.”
Greg’s voice sharpened.
“You should go.”
Hannah turned.
“No.”
“Hannah.”
“No more sending women out of rooms because you don’t like what they know.”
That sentence hit him harder than shouting would have.
Elise looked at me.
“I can leave this and go.”
I accepted the envelope.
“What is it?”
“A copy of a note Audrey gave me.”
Greg stared.
“She gave you a note?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Near the end.”
His face twisted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Elise gave him a sad look.
“You weren’t speaking to me by then.”
The room around us continued moving.
Most guests had no idea what was happening now.
We had drifted toward a quieter corner near the coatroom.
I was grateful.
Hannah’s wedding had already contained enough public spectacle.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photocopy of a handwritten page.
Audrey’s handwriting.
Again.
I felt as though I were meeting my husband’s first wife one paragraph at a time.
The note was addressed to Elise.
It thanked her.
That surprised me.
Greg saw my face.
“What?”
I handed it to him.
He read silently.
His shoulders dropped.
Elise spoke.
“Audrey knew we had become close.”
Hannah looked at her.
“How close?”
Elise answered carefully.
“Your father was terrified.”
Greg looked away.
“Your mother was very ill. He would come downstairs during long treatments and talk.”
“Were you his therapist?”
“No.”
“What were you?”
“I coordinated family support at the hospital.”
Hannah looked at Greg.
“And you fell in love with her?”
He said nothing.
Elise answered.
“No.”
Greg looked at her.
She held his gaze.
“You were drowning, Greg. You attached yourself to someone who could listen without falling apart.”
“That’s not an excuse.”
“No,” Elise said. “It isn’t.”
I respected her for that.
She continued.
“We kissed once.”
Hannah closed her eyes.
Greg whispered, “Elise.”
“You wanted honesty.”
“I wanted you to leave.”
“And that’s why this happened in the first place.”
He flinched.
Elise looked toward Hannah.
“Your mother knew.”
“How?”
“She saw us talking outside.”
“The photograph?”
“Yes.”
“And the kiss?”
Elise hesitated.
“She asked me directly.”
Hannah went pale.
“What did you tell her?”
“The truth.”
Greg sank into a nearby chair.
I had never seen him look smaller.
Hannah’s voice was barely audible.
“What did Mom do?”
Elise smiled sadly.
“She surprised me.”
“How?”
“She said she was furious.”
That sounded believable.
Then Elise continued.
“And then she said she was more afraid your father would spend the rest of his life punishing himself than she was afraid of losing him.”
Greg covered his face.
Hannah stared.
“She forgave him?”
“Not instantly.”
Elise shook her head.
“She made him work for it.”
A tiny laugh escaped Karen.
“That sounds like Audrey.”
Elise nodded.
“She also told me to stay away after that.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“For good?”
“Yes.”
Greg looked up.
“That’s true.”
I believed him.
Not because I wanted to.
Because shame has a recognizable texture.
Greg’s shame wasn’t fresh enough to be a current secret.
It was old.
Preserved.
Fermented into something worse.
Hannah sat beside him.
“Dad.”
He couldn’t look at her.
“Is that why you did this to Jenna?”
His shoulders shook once.
I had never seen Greg cry openly.
Not at our wedding.
Not when his father died.
Not when Hannah graduated.
Now tears appeared.
“I saw Jenna with the pearls.”
I sat opposite him.
He continued.
“She was standing in our kitchen holding Audrey’s box. And all I could think about was that hospital.”
Elise’s face softened.
Greg looked at Hannah.
“I thought about your mother dying while I was leaning emotionally on another woman. I thought about how badly I failed her.”
“And then you looked at Jenna,” Hannah said.
He nodded.
“And I saw another woman doing all the things Audrey should have been alive to do.”
I understood now.
It still hurt.
But I understood.
“You weren’t protecting Audrey,” I said.
He looked at me.
“You were punishing yourself.”
“Yes.”
“And somehow I became the weapon.”
His eyes closed.
“Yes.”
Hannah’s voice broke.
“So when you told Jenna she wasn’t my mother, you weren’t thinking about me at all.”
Greg stared at his daughter.
That was the cruelest truth.
He nodded.
“No.”
Hannah stood.
She turned away.
Ethan moved closer.
This time she let him put one hand against her back.
I folded Audrey’s note.
“So who emailed Elise?”
Everyone went quiet.
Karen took out her phone.
She searched.
“No sent message.”
Elise pulled out her own phone.
“The address looked like yours.”
She showed us.
Karen read it.
“That isn’t mine.”
One letter had been changed.
A convincing fake.
My stomach tightened.
Someone had deliberately brought Elise here.
On Hannah’s wedding night.
Someone knew about Audrey.
Someone knew about the photograph.
Someone knew about the letter.
Greg looked toward the reception room.
“Who else knew?”
Karen answered.
“Only family.”
That word sounded dangerous now.
We listed them.
Karen.
Greg.
Audrey’s brother, Mark.
Greg’s sister, Linda.
Maybe Linda’s husband.
Possibly my mother-in-law before she passed.
Hannah suddenly looked toward the head table.
“Aunt Linda left early.”
Greg frowned.
“When?”
“Before the speeches.”
Karen’s expression hardened.
“That’s unusual.”
Linda never left anything early.
Especially events where she might hear gossip first.
I remembered something from the rehearsal dinner.
Linda had found me near the bar after I stepped away from the family photograph.
She had said, “Probably for the best.”
At the time I assumed she meant avoiding confusion.
Now the memory felt different.
“What has Greg told Linda about me?” I asked.
He looked confused.
“What?”
“Over the years.”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Not nothing. Normal things.”
Hannah turned around.
“Dad.”
He sighed.
“When Jenna and I argued, I sometimes talked to Linda.”
“How often?”
“I don’t know.”
I felt tired suddenly.
Not furious.
Tired.
“What did you tell her about the wedding?”
He hesitated.
That was enough.
“What?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“I said you were becoming too involved.”
Hannah stared.
“Too involved?”
“I was upset.”
“What else?”
“I said I was worried you were trying to take Audrey’s place.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not a private cruel sentence in a kitchen.
A narrative.
Shared.
Repeated.
Given a life outside our marriage.
Karen said softly, “Greg.”
He looked sick.
“I didn’t mean it the way it sounds.”
“It sounds exactly like what you meant when you said it,” I replied.
Elise quietly stepped back.
“I should leave.”
I looked at her.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t create this.”
She nodded toward Greg.
“Neither did grief alone.”
Then she walked away.
That sentence stayed.
Hannah turned to her father.
“You told Aunt Linda Jenna was trying to replace Mom?”
“I was confused.”
“You were cruel.”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell anyone else?”
He shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I spoke to Linda.”
Hannah looked at me.
I could see the decision before she made it.
She picked up her phone.
“Hannah, don’t,” I said.
She paused.
“This is my wedding.”
“I know.”
“She did this at my wedding.”
“We don’t know that.”
“We’re going to.”
Before I could stop her, Hannah called Linda.
No answer.
She called again.
Voicemail.
Then Ethan’s phone buzzed.
He looked down.
His expression changed.
“What?”
Hannah asked.
He turned the screen toward us.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
One photograph.
It showed me at the rehearsal dinner stepping away from the family photo.
A caption had been added beneath it.
At least she finally understood she isn’t family.
Hannah stared at the screen.
Then another message arrived.
This one contained a screenshot of a group text.
Greg’s name appeared at the top.
And beneath it was a sentence he had sent three weeks earlier.
A sentence about me.
Hannah read it once.
May you like
Then slowly raised her eyes toward her father.
“Tell me this is fake.”
