The Wedding Dress by Lucy Kevin Page A

better if he was simply a ‘family friend,’ because I knew Edward would never leave his family for us. He loved Chloe and Anne too much and missed them every minute he was apart from them. But he loved Jasmine too, I’m sure of it. He would have liked to have spent so much more time with her, but knowing that we’d never have him completely, and that it would only end up breaking Jasmine’s heart, I cut off contact with him when she was just a little girl.” Her eyes were bleak. “I honestly believed this way was better. Only, when she wouldn’t stop asking about him, and then she found his picture…”
    “I understand,” Gareth said. “You had a terribly difficult choice to make. And you made the best one you could at the time.”
    “I wish my daughter understood things the way you do. All this time, she grew up wondering who her father was and what she’d done to make him go away, even though I told her it wasn’t her fault. The whole court case…I don’t even think it’s about the money. I think it’s more that she just wants something that was Edward’s , because she never got to have him .”
    “Whereas Anne did,” Gareth said softly. “Ms. Turner, I know you don’t know me and that you don’t owe me anything, but there’s something I’m really hoping you will do…”

Chapter Sixteen
     
    “I never noticed before,” Anne declared, “just how nice the ceiling is in here.”
    Lying next to her on the dance floor of the Rose Chalet that evening, Rose turned her head toward her friend. “You’re drunk.”
    “So are you.”
    And they were. Completely smashed.
    “Well, what else are best friends for?” Rose asked.
    “You’re totally my best friend,” Anne’s words slurred slightly, “but this isn’t just sympathy drinking, is it?”
    “Yes, it is!”
    “No,” Anne insisted. “RJ went off to go on a date with some other woman, and now you’re all—”
    Rose made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a hiccup, and Anne quickly shut her mouth. Well, as quickly as she could, given how numb her lips felt.
    They lapsed into a brief silence punctuated by more gulps from the bottles close at hand.
    The fizzy, sweet champagne helped Anne admit, “Did I tell you that I tore up my mother’s dress?”
    “No! What a horrible idea, Anne. Why’d you do that?”
    Unfortunately, getting drunk hadn’t helped her forget one single thing that had happened. She could still remember the hurt, the despair she’d felt when she’d yelled at Gareth to leave.
    And how it had been even worse when he’d actually left.
    “Because it was a lie!” Anne declared.
    “Hold on, that doesn’t make sense.”
    Rose rolled over so that they could talk face-to-face. Her friend’s features blurred slightly when Anne did the same thing.
    “It’s a dress. Not a lie. Can’t be both.” Rose held up a hand in front of her face as if she was counting her fingers to make sure they were all there. “No, it definitely can’t be both.”
    “Not the dress,” Anne said.
    “You just said it was the dress.”
    Rose looked more than a little perplexed. Though frankly, given the amount they’d both had to drink, even the painted design on the ceiling was looking pretty confusing.
    “Everything,” Anne insisted. “Everything’s a lie.”
    “Oh God,” Rose said. “This is like being back in Mrs. Findler’s philosophy class. Do you remember her?”
    “I remember all kinds of things,” Anne assured her. Alcohol did that instead of helping her forget. Instead, it seemed to have cleared away the walls she’d put up around her memories.
    All those times her father hadn’t been home. The way her mother would always be so down but utterly determined that everything would be normal. And, especially, the way Anne felt she had to pretend along with her. With happier smiles. Bigger hugs.
    “My dad had an affair,” she said softly, before repeating it in a louder, angrier voice. “My dad had an affair,