Chapter 3
“Mrs. Bennett, are you still going to Ivory & Lace today?”
Martin, our driver, was waiting downstairs with the car keys.
I stopped.
“Who told you to ask?”
He gave an awkward smile.
“Mr. Bennett said if you wanted to look at wedding dresses, I should take you straight there.”
My phone vibrated in my purse.
A Snapchat message from Ethan.
“I was wrong last night. You like meaningful gestures, don’t you? Let’s have a proper wedding photo shoot.”
I replied, “Didn’t you say last night that I don’t like wedding dresses?”
His response came quickly. “People change. I want to give you something better too.”
Once, those words would have softened me.
I had wanted to wear a wedding dress.
The year we got married, Ethan’s company was barely getting started. I’d said a satin dress was easier because I didn’t want to add to his stress.
Later, whenever anyone asked, he told them I didn’t like the fuss.
After hearing it enough times, it became the truth everyone knew about me.
Martin asked, “Shall we go, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
Ivory & Lace was on the fifth floor of a downtown shopping center.
The receptionist’s smile brightened the moment she heard Ethan’s name.
“Mr. Bennett was just here yesterday. The bridal gown he ordered is still in storage. You’re Mrs. Bennett?”
“Yes.”
She opened the appointment book.
“Mr. Bennett said your waist would change after the first trimester, so he asked us to leave extra room for alterations.”
I looked at her.
“First trimester?”
Her smile froze.
“That’s what Mr. Bennett told us.”
I picked up the album on the desk.
A fitting photo was tucked into the first page.
Sophie wore a white wedding gown, one hand resting on her belly.
Ethan stood beside her, adjusting her shoulder strap.
The corner of the photo showed a date and time.
Yesterday, 4:20 p.m.
He had sent me a message at that time.
“In a meeting. Don’t wait for me for dinner.”
The receptionist spoke quietly. “Would you like some water, Mrs. Bennett?”
“Has the balance been paid?”
“He paid in full by card.”
“Could you print an itemized receipt? I’d like to check our household expenses.”
She hesitated.
I showed her a photo of our marriage certificate.
“I’m his legal wife.”
Her expression changed. She lowered her head and began printing.
The receipt was long.
Bridal gown, reception dress, maternity alterations, groom’s suit.
In the notes: Groom, Ethan Bennett.
I folded it and slipped it into my purse.
Before I left, a familiar voice drifted out of the fitting area.
“Ms. Bennett, your husband said these heels are too high. He asked us to bring you a pair with a one-inch heel.”
Sophie answered softly, “He’s always like that. Worried I’ll fall.”
I stood outside without going in.
Watching my face, the receptionist whispered, “Would you like me to call Mr. Bennett?”
“No.”
As the mall elevator descended, Ethan called.
“Claire, Martin says you’re there.”
“Yes.”
“Which dress do you like?”
“Which one do you think?”
He laughed softly.
“You look beautiful in anything. They have a satin gown there. I thought of you the moment I saw it.”
I looked at the receipt in my purse.
“Did you think of me, or her?”
He said nothing.
The elevator stopped on the third floor. A young couple stepped inside.
The girl held a bouquet of lisianthus. The boy carried her iced tea.
When Ethan spoke again, his voice was lower.
“Did you see her?”
“No.”
“Then don’t jump to conclusions.”
“Is the bridal gown beautiful?”
He sighed.
“Claire, I can explain.”
“Go ahead.”
“She and her husband can’t have a wedding anymore. She’s falling apart. I was just helping her fulfill a dream.”
“You helped by being listed as the groom?”
“The shop had complicated procedures. I signed to make things easier.”
“Ethan, have you noticed you can’t even be bothered to come up with new lies?”
He fell silent.
“Where are you? I’ll pick you up.”
“No need.”
“Claire, please. Don’t wander around alone working yourself up.”
“I’m not working myself up. I’m looking at evidence.”
He paused.
“What evidence?”
I hung up.
Half an hour later, I got home.
Ethan had arrived before me.
He stood in the living room. A box sat on the coffee table.
“I bought you something.”
I didn’t move.
He opened the box.
Inside was the twenty-thousand-dollar coat.
“You said you liked it last night. I had it delivered.”
Then he said, “Claire, I don’t want us giving each other the silent treatment.”
“Do you think buying it makes everything okay?”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“I know Sophie bothers you. But she’s pregnant. We can’t handle everything the usual way right now.”
“What’s the usual way?”
“Once she’s had the baby, I’ll sort everything out.”
I understood.
It wasn’t that he had no choice.
He had simply chosen to make me wait.
“What about me?”
Ethan looked at me.
“You’re my wife.”
“So being your wife means I have to give way?”
He frowned.
“It’s not giving way. You’re more stable than she is. Claire, I know you can handle this.”
So because I had no pregnant belly, no tear-reddened eyes, no helplessness that required someone to hold me up, I was expected to be understanding.
I picked up the coat.
Ethan thought I was going to try it on.
Instead, I placed it in his arms.
“Return it.”
“But you liked it.”
“I don’t anymore.”