Chapter 3

I set an alarm for three in the morning.

I got up and texted Charles: Baby, I'm so nervous. Tomorrow I marry you.

He replied instantly: Baby, I'm nervous too. I'll love you for the rest of my life.

I smiled a little, screenshotted the exchange, and saved it to a flash drive. I named the folder "Lies at the Last Minute."

The moon outside was bright, hitting the tiny crystals on the wedding dress until it hurt my eyes. Good moonlight, a soft bed, a quiet room. Tomorrow's jewelry sat in the cabinet, and three years of evidence sat in the drawer. Everything was ready. I lay back down and actually fell asleep, deeply.

Tomorrow would be good weather. Good weather for settling accounts.

The next morning at seven, the makeup artist knocked right on time. I sat in front of the mirror, and as she smoothed on the foundation she said, Your skin is so nice, you really don't stay up late, do you?

I said I'd been too excited the night before, didn't fall asleep until three.

She just said oh and didn't press. Her hands were steady when she put on the false lashes. One tray took her twenty minutes, because I told her I wanted three layers. She asked, Don't you usually like a natural look? I said today was my wedding, it should be grand.

Gay came at half past eight. She wore the champagne bridesmaid dress I'd picked out for her last month, and on her feet were my gift for her twenty-third birthday, those seven-hundred-dollar white sneakers. The shoes were very white. She must have cleaned them. The moment she came in she threw herself at me and hugged me, saying, Oh my God, you look way too gorgeous today, Charles must have saved the entire galaxy in a past life to get to marry you.

She still carried that gardenia perfume, rubbing it all over my neck. On the inside of her arm was a small bruise. I knew it too well. Charles liked to pinch when he got worked up, and in the first half year we were together my arms always had marks like that too. He said I'd bumped into things by accident.