Chapter 4

My mother was admitted to the hospital that same night.

The doctor said her blood pressure was too high and she'd had a bad shock, so she'd need to stay under observation for a couple of days.

She lay in the hospital bed, her fingers going numb from how awful she felt, and still she kept telling me,

“Zoey, I'm fine.”

“If the wedding's called off, then it's called off.”

“I can still use my hands and feet. I can take care of myself.”

The next day, around noon, I went down to pay the bill.

When I came back, the door to the room was half open.

Blanche's voice was coming from inside.

“Don't you play sick.”

“Samuel's never had to put up with this kind of insult his whole life.”

“Zoey's gotten this bold all of a sudden. That's because you're behind her, isn't it?”

Candice's voice came soft.

“Auntie, don't say that.”

“Raising Zoey on her own can't have been easy for her.”

“It's just that a single-parent home does tend to raise a daughter who's too sensitive.”

Inside the room, my mother struggled to sit up.

There was a contract laid out in front of her. After the marriage, the bride's mother could not live with them, could not take part in raising any children.

On the wedding day she would not sit at the head table, would not receive the tea ceremony.

She could not tell anyone she was related to the Stephens family.

My mother's fingers were shaking too hard to hold the pen.

“I won't sign.”

Blanche sneered.

“That's fine too.”

“Then just wait and watch people laugh at your daughter for not being good enough to marry into money.”

Candice sighed.

“Auntie, don't cling to that little bit of pride.”

“Zoey waited seven years for Samuel. You can't ruin all seven of them for her, can you?”

My mother slowly pushed the pen away.

“My daughter can find a husband just fine.”

“And she isn't being sold to your family.”

Blanche's face changed. She snatched up the contract and threw it at her.

“I'm offering you respect and you throw it back in my face!”

Pages scattered all across the bed.

My mother pressed a hand to her chest, her breathing turning fast and shallow.

I rushed in and hit the call button.

“Get out!”

Blanche took a step back at my shout.

Candice suddenly lunged over and grabbed me.

“Zoey, don't get worked up. Auntie means well.”

I shook her off.

As if she'd worked out the angle in advance, she threw her whole body into the nightstand.

The cup of hot water shattered, and water splashed onto her shin.

She screamed and dropped to the floor.

The next second, Samuel rushed into the room.

He barely looked at my mother in the bed. He crouched down first and gathered Candice up.

“Where did it burn you?”

Candice shook her head through her tears.

“I'm fine. Check on Auntie first.”

The more she said it, the more it tore at him.

He looked up at me, his eyes frighteningly cold.

“Zoey, you'll actually shove someone now?”

I pointed at the bed.

“My mother can't breathe.”

The nurse had already come running and was fitting my mother with oxygen.

The sound of the monitor set everyone's nerves on edge.

Samuel finally spared her a glance.

But then Candice drew a low, sharp breath.

“Samuel, it hurts so much.”

He picked her up at once.

“I'll take you to get it treated.”

I looked at him and couldn't get out a single word.

He reached the door, then stopped.

“Zoey, stop using your mother's health to force me to back down.”

A tear slid from the corner of my mother's eye.

It was so slight, and yet it shattered the last bit of reluctance I had left.

That night, my mother woke up.

She stared at the ceiling, her voice badly hoarse.

“Zoey, I always used to be afraid you'd suffer on your own.”

“Now I understand.”

“Suffering alone, you can get through.”

“Marrying the wrong man is a lifetime with nowhere to run.”

I held her hand.

“Mom, I'm not marrying him.”

She stroked my head.

“Good.”

“Mom will take you home.”

The next afternoon, I took her to my aunt's place in the next town over to recover.

Then I grabbed my documents and my luggage and went to the airport.

Six months ago the Seaford branch had asked whether I'd be willing to transfer.

I'd turned it down, for Samuel.

Now I said yes.

At the security checkpoint, Samuel caught up to me.

He had the washed-clean engagement ring in his hand, his breathing uneven.

“Zoey, come back with me.”

I looked at him.

“Back where?”

“Home.”

“That isn't my home.”

His voice went tight.

“I'll handle the thing with my mother.”

“And I'll make Candice move out.”

“If your mother wants to sit at the head table, she sits there. If she wants me to serve her tea, I'll do it.”

He said it in a rush, and with that pride he always had.

As if he was finally deigning to give ground, and I ought to be grateful for it.

I asked him, “And if my mother had actually died today?”

His face went pale.

“Didn't the doctor say she was stable?”

I laughed.

“So even now, you still think it was nothing.”

He finally panicked.

“Zoey, I chased you all the way to the airport.”

“How much more do you want me to bend?”

“Weren't you always the one who hated to see me tired?”

The announcement began calling for boarding.

I pried his fingers open one by one.

“Samuel, I just don't want it anymore.”

I looked at the ring in his hand.

“Not the ring, not the wedding, not the Stephens family.”

“And not you either.”

The color drained from his face, bit by bit.

“Didn't you used to love me more than anything?”

I dragged my suitcase through the security checkpoint.

“I don't anymore.”

The ring slipped from his palm, rolled past the security line, and got kicked away by someone hurrying past.