Okay, so Kit hadn’t already tilted over into adultery. Or at least he’d proclaimed he hadn’t, but Melanie knew without hesitation that if Charlotte could, she would have her tanned, toned legs wrapped around Kit Layton before anyone could blink. The younger woman was definitely laying the groundwork for more than a professional partnership with Melanie’s husband. Not that Kit would admit as much when she’d confronted him with the text about the hotel room.
He’d claimed it was the meeting room, a pseudo suite/meeting space within the hotel because the other conference rooms were booked, and Hal had insisted on the meeting being at the Hilton. Melanie had, of course, looked up the meeting space availability online and had drawn no firm conclusions on that claim. She’d hemmed and hawed over calling the Hilton, but her husband had been forthcoming about Charlotte and her . . . well, flattering attentions. She had to trust that he was being true. Even though what he’d confessed after she confronted him was just as soul-crushing—he’d admitted to being somewhat tempted to pick up what Charlotte was laying down.
After that little bombshell, she’d booked an appointment with a therapist for the following week. They could fix this lull—or what had Kit called it? Yes, dissatisfaction in their marriage. If there was one thing Melanie knew, it was that she could fix almost anything. They’d weathered a lot in their marriage, and Kit being bored with her or having a midlife crisis was just one more thing they would laugh about when they celebrated their golden wedding anniversary over cake and champagne at the club.
But she hadn’t expected her daughter to announce that she was getting married in August.
August!
And Emma had already booked the church and reception space for the wedding—the same church where she and Kit had been married years before. Bad memories slammed into her. What should have been a wonderful day had been ruined by the woman who would soon be Emma’s mother-in-law.
Holy cow, she couldn’t believe this.
“Your mother didn’t mean it that way, sweetheart,” Kit said. His glance her way was quelling because he knew she had meant it that way.
Tennyson shouldn’t have been the first person told about Melanie’s daughter’s wedding. No. It absolutely should have been Emma’s own mother who’d heard it first. The thought that she hadn’t been was . . . Melanie blinked away the sudden prickling of tears.
Andrew looked down at his phone. “Uh, my mom is running late. Traffic.”
“Wait. She’s coming? Here? To dinner tonight?” Melanie managed without sounding as alarmed as she felt. Hurt was forgotten as something ugly wound its way into her gut. She didn’t want to see Tennyson, and she danged sure didn’t want to be connected to her by her daughter’s marriage. God, they’d have to spend holidays together. Oh, and plan a wedding.
Why was this happening?
Okay, so she knew she would see Tennyson at some point this weekend. That was why she’d gotten a pedicure and her roots touched up along with a special intensive conditioner applied to make her dark helmet of hair shine beneath the light. She’d carefully chosen clothes that disguised her slight belly and bird legs. She’d even paid a ridiculous sum for eyelash extensions. If her mother found out she’d done something so preposterous, Anne would scoff. Maintaining one’s appearance wasn’t to be left to obvious deceit. A woman ate well, exercised, and always, always moisturized. If the time came for touch-ups, a woman went to the best surgeon in Dallas so no one would know. End. Stop. Fake eyelashes and hair extensions were for strippers. And don’t even contemplate a tattoo unless one was preparing to be a cocktail waitress or a homeless person with a crack addiction. Melanie was almost certain those were the exact words her mother had used.
“Uh, yeah, she’s coming.” Andrew looked at Emma with alarm in his eyes. “That’s why we’re seated at a table for six. She’s not bringing anyone, though. She and my stepdad just got divorced six months ago. Besides, I thought you knew each other.”
Like the back of her hand.
But that had been once upon a time. Before they hated each other. Before college. Before Kit. And before the wedding catastrophe that had ruined the Brevard family. It was something she’d buried, that her whole family had put behind them. Emma and Noah didn’t know about what had happened that night or the aftereffects, and she’d hoped to keep it that way. The past was better left . . . in the past.
But that might not be possible now.
“We do know each other,” Melanie said, trying to get control of her spinning emotions. She’d thought she had years before Emma got engaged, but the gleaming two-karat ring on her daughter’s left hand declared that belief null and void. And now her daughter wanted a hurry-up ceremony so she and Andrew could play house during the most difficult and demanding year of her life—year one of medical school. Nothing made sense to Melanie about this plan.
“We’re merely surprised. That’s what your mother means.” Kit gave his daughter a comforting smile.
“Yes, we’re surprised. You said you didn’t want to be in a relationship while you were in medical school because it wouldn’t be fair to the other person, and now you want to get married. That’s, like, a major relationship, honey.” Melanie lowered her voice and spoke with slower modulation. The way her mother had always demanded. “Are you sure you’ve both thought this through?”
Andrew nodded. “We have, and we think this makes more sense than being six hours apart. Larson Hart has a branch in Shreveport, and they granted me a transfer. Besides, I can help pay the bills while she’s in school. Oh, and make sure she gets food, rest, and support during that tough first year. We’re young, but we know we’re meant to be together.”
He made it sound so reasonable.
“But this seems so fast,” Melanie said, trying to sound lighter . . . and likely failing.
“I know it does,” Andrew continued, looking contrite. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to you both first. Emma found the ring in my sock drawer, and, well, it—”
“I screwed it up,” Emma interrupted, her irritation fading when she looked at Andrew. Damned if the child’s eyes didn’t shine with absolute adoration when she looked up at the boy who had obviously stolen her heart.
“But I tried to redeem myself,” Andrew said, and the way he quirked his mouth looked so much like his mother. For a moment, something squeezed in Melanie’s chest.
“Yeah, he said, ‘Put it back, and pretend you didn’t see it.’” Emma smiled, reaching for his hand. The diamond sparkled as if it, too, was in on the whole convincing-the-parents campaign. “So I did. The next day, I awoke to ten dozen roses surrounding me and a latte with the cutest little heart. We went on a picnic, and then that night under the stars at a rooftop restaurant in Bentonville, Andrew took my hand and led me to the dance floor. The band played my favorite Ed Sheeran song, and he got down on one knee and asked me to be his forever and always.”
The two were staring into each other’s eyes, a sheen of tears glistening as Andrew lifted her daughter’s hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles with a kiss.
Melanie felt tears prick at her own eyes. The couple before her looked about as much in love as two people could. It was almost eye-roll worthy, but so sincere she wouldn’t dare. As upset as she was that her baby wanted to get married at twenty-two to the son of the woman who betrayed her, she was also pleased to see the affection between the two. She wanted love for her daughter. The kind she’d found with Kit. The kind she still hoped knit them together.