It is the tone he uses when waiters make mistakes. When his assistant forgets something. When the doorman at his building takes too long opening the door.
A tone you had noticed but forgiven because he never used it on you.
Until now.
“Julian,” Father Anthony says. “Let her speak.”
Julian smiles, but the smile has no warmth.
“Father, my mother has been emotional all week. She took medication this morning. She’s confused.”
Teresa flinches.
You see it.
Your father sees it too.
He steps closer to you.
“Medication?” you ask.
Julian turns toward you, and in an instant his face softens into the man you thought you loved.
“Baby, don’t listen to this. She’s overwhelmed. This is embarrassing, but we can fix it. Let the staff clean up, and we’ll continue.”
Continue.
There is trash on your wedding dress.
His mother is shaking.
The priest looks like he has seen a ghost.
And Julian wants to continue.
Teresa makes a sound, half sob, half warning.
“Don’t marry him.”
The words tear through the church.
Julian turns slowly.
“Mother.”
