Page 2 of Mechanic's Charming Bride

There have been so many things in between that have slowly built up this tension in me, warning bells that have been going off and telling me that what I’m about to do is stupid.

But Frank got another job, my mother-in-law apologized for making me feel bad, and things had gotten better.

So then why do I still feel this way?

The doors behind me swing open, causing me to dart around the corner to hide myself from whoever it is coming out. Knowing my luck, it’d be Frank sneaking a last-minute cigarette before our ceremony—yet another thing I’ve been begging him to quit.

“What do you mean?” I hear my mother-in-law, Martha, say.

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Frank says, his voice frustrated. “It’s gone, ma. I’m fucking screwed.”

“Don’t use that language with me.”

What are they talking about? What’s gone?

Peeking around the corner, I watch them walk in the opposite direction, stopping right under one of the shade awnings. Frank is in his tux with his hair gelled back from his face, looking quite handsome. Aside from the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, that is.

His mother is dressed in her maroon mother-of-the-groom dress, the beads on it catching the light as she moves.

“I thought you said it was a solid investment?” Martha says.

Frank digs a lighter out of his suit pocket and lights up his cigarette, taking a few puffs before talking again. “Yeah, I did too. The guy who sold me the course had a 100 percent guarantee on an investment return.”

“So then ask him for the money back!”

“I can’t, ma. It’s all gone.”

Money? What money?

Even without the context, my heart is beginning to sink. Frank has never been good with money, always trying to find the next best thing in whatever side hustle he can manage to get his hands on.

Since getting engaged, though, he’s stopped cold turkey. Or at least that’s what he promised me he’d do. Losing his job had been a hard blow and with it taking him almost three months to find another one on top of planning the wedding, it had been hair-pulling levels of stress.

And now this?

“How much was it?” Martha asks.

Frank doesn’t answer for a long moment, taking a few long drags in order to avoid answering her. My heart pounds hard. It’s his tell-tale sign that things are bad. If he won’t even tell his mother.

“A lot, ma.”

“How much, honey? Dad and I can cut you a check. You can pay us back.”

“Two hundred thousand worth?” He shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

My jaw drops.

Two… two hundred… thousand dollars?!

I’m going to be sick.

“Was it a loan? Is someone after you for the money?”

He shakes his head again. “It’s not like a loan shark, ma. It was all online. You ever heard of crypto?”

I stumble away from the wall, further distancing myself from the conversation.

Two hundred thousand. Two hundred thousand dollars he’s out.

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