Page 87 of Past Due

Feeling a bit silly modeling my wedding dress, I nevertheless stood and twirled slowly. Rina stepped back to make sure the iPad camera had captured me from head to toe.

After completing all the paperwork and getting all the stamps and signatures we needed, Besian had handed me off to Rina who knew all the best places in Tiran for shopping. Rina might share more of Aston’s haute couture fashion sense, but she understood my preferences for simpler things. She had taken me to a boutique filled with understated, classic dresses, and it hadn’t taken me more than five minutes of browsing to find the perfect one.

It had a vintage feel with its mix of soft ivory satin, tulle and lace. I liked the modest bateau neckline and the simple pearl embellishments along the waist and hem. The tea length hem was perfect for our very small ceremony in the hotel’s garden. Not too fancy, but not too plain.

Aston started crying again. “Marley, you’re so beautiful. Your hair! The dress!” She sniffled loudly. “Rina,” she said seriously, “you did a wonderful job pulling this all together in, like, two days!”

“The hotel did most of the work,” she demurred.

There was a knock at the door. I glanced at Rina as she handed me the iPad. “Someone from the hotel maybe?”

“If it’s Besian, you tell him to kick rocks,” Aston called out as Rina went to answer the door. “He can’t see Marley until the ceremony!”

“It’s Stefana!” Rina announced.

“Who is Stefana?” Aston asked in between giant bites of a breakfast taco.

“And Drita,” Rina added in a strained voice.

“That old witch who was mean to you?” Aston asked angrily, her mouth still full. She swallowed hurriedly and reached for her huge tumbler of water. After a quick drink, she commanded, “Bring her in here so I can tell her what a raggedy ass—“

“Aston!” I harshly quieted her. “Not now.”

“If not now, when?”

Ignoring her, I lowered the iPad and walked out to the living area of our suite. My blistered heels and toes had started to heal nicely, and the supple, supportive flats I had chosen cushioned my steps in a way that made walking pain free.

“Hey! Pick me back up! I want to see!”

Rina caught my eye, silently apologizing for letting Drita inside the suite. She took the iPad from my hand and stepped out of the way. I noticed her discreetly turning the iPad and lifting it so Aston could see.

“Marley! You look incredible!” Stefana grasped both my hands and air kissed my cheeks. “Besian is going to melt when he sees you!” She glanced at my hand and inspected the much smaller and skin colored bandage. “How is your hand?”

“Fine,” I said, hoping she felt no guilt about my injury. “It’s healing well.”

“Good,” she said quietly. Her own injuries were hidden beneath expertly applied makeup and the long sleeved dress she had chosen. We had spoken twice over the phone since her attack, and neither of us wanted to being up those ugly memories now. Instead, Stefana glanced at Drita and rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll want some privacy for this conversation.”

“Why?” Aston interjected angrily from the iPad. “Did that lady give Marley any privacy when she accosted her in that driveway?”

I cringed at Aston’s rudeness, but Rina replied, “She has a point. Drita embarrassed you publicly. She should apologize publicly.”

Standing with her hands clutched in front of her, Drita didn’t hide or try to escape. She met my still wounded gaze without wavering. “Your friend is right. You don’t owe me any special treatment, not after the way I behaved.”

“That’s true,” I agreed, “but I would prefer to speak privately.”

Aston protested, and Rina turned the iPad around, smashing it against her chest so silence her. Rina gestured to the bedroom with a nod of her head, and Stefana followed. I noticed they left the door open partway and imagined they were both right behind it with their ears as close as possible to the gap. Rina probably had the iPad pointed out toward the living area to make sure Aston heard everything.

Drita cleared her throat and said, “What I did was wrong. I hurt you. I was mean and nasty. I had no right to treat you that way.”

“Why did you?” I asked the question that had been plaguing me ever since. “Why?”

She swallowed nervously and glanced toward the windows behind me. After a moment, she asked, “What has Besian told you about his mother?”

“Enough that I would piss on her grave if I knew where it was,” I answered crudely.

“Then you understand why I feel so protective of him,” she said, clearly sharing my sentiment. “His whole life he’s never been enough. He’s always been second or third or last. Until he went away and made a new life for himself,” she explained. “But, still, he was alone. He might tell me that he was happy, but I knew. I could see how much he wanted to be loved, to have a wife, a family.”

She stopped and inhaled a shaky breath. “Zec told me about you. After Besian was shot protecting you,” she clarified. “He said you were different. You weren’t after him for his money or whatever you could get out of him. You were brilliant, driven, kind. You were all the things I wanted for him.”

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