Page 88 of Past Due

She shook her head. “And then I heard the guards talking about the club and the man you were with and I was so angry. I knew how it would destroy him. He had finally trusted a woman, loved her, and you betrayed him.”

I wanted to interrupt her, to defend myself, but I sensed she needed to get it all out at once. So I waited patiently and listened.

“I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to humiliate you. I wanted to make you cry. I wanted you to ruin your life for hurting him.” Drita inhaled loudly. “And I felt good for a while after you left. I felt justified. I felt as if I had protected my family and gotten vengeance.”

She looked down in shame. “Until Rina told me the truth, and I realized how wrong I had been. I realized how I had been the one to betray and hurt Besian.” Her eyes shimmered with tears as she said, “The look on his face when he learned what I had done to you! I’ll never forget that I made him feel that way. Terrified. Panicked. Heartbroken.”

As she shook her head and gulped down the sob threatening to escape her throat, my anger fled. Not wanting anymore animosity on my wedding day, I stepped forward and touched her arm. I wanted to heal the fracture in the family and make things right before I walked down the aisle and made Besian’s family my family.

“I forgive you, Drita.”

Her head snapped up. Her brow furrowed. “What? Just like that?”

I nodded. “Just like that.”

“But I hurt you—“

“Yes, you did,” I interrupted, “but I don’t want to hurt you. I understand why you behaved the way you did. It hurt me. A lot,” I emphasized. “But I know why you reacted that way. You lashed out because you thought I had hurt him.”

“He’s always been special to me,” she said. “Like a son.”

“And because of that, I’m willing to let this go.” I gently grasped her hand. “Let’s leave it in the past and move on. I don’t want this hanging over our family.”

Drita squeezed my hand. “Yes. It’s in the past.”

I smiled, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders. “Good.”

Drita let go of my hand and slipped the thin strap of her evening clutch off her shoulder. The bag matched her gold jewelry and strappy heels and complemented her navy dress. “I brought something for you.” She unlocked the clasp of the clutch and withdrew a small black velvet pouch. “I know that American girls carry something old on their wedding day.”

“Drita, you didn’t have to bring me a gift.”

“I want you to have it,” she insisted earnestly.

She seemed genuine so I accepted the small bag with a smile and a thank you. I tugged open the drawstring top and tilted the bag to let the contents fall onto my palm. A gleaming gold cross necklace slipped out into my waiting hand. I gently turned the cross over and marveled at the delicate symbols engraved in the gold. “It’s beautiful, Drita.”

“It was Besian’s grandmother’s cross,” she explained. “On his father’s side,” she clarified. “She wore it every day, and before she died, she gave it to me for safekeeping. ‘For one of their wives,’ she told me.” Drita fingered the shiny gold chain. “I kept it all this time, waiting for the right wife to come along. That’s you.”

“Drita, I don’t know what to say.” The family heirloom in my hand suddenly felt extremely weighty, and I wondered if Besian’s grandmother would have approved of me.

“Just promise me you’ll pass it on to one of your daughters,” she asked.

“Of course,” I said immediately. The image of a little girl with my hair and Besian’s dark eyes flashed before me. “I promise. I’ll give it to one of our daughters.”

“Here. Let me help you.” Drita took the necklace and moved behind me. I swept aside my hair, and she draped the necklace around my neck. “This style of cross is for Saint Xenia,” she explained. “She is a patron saint of marriage.”

“I’m sure I can use all the help I can get.”

Drita gently squeezed my shoulder. “You’ll be a good wife. I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so.” I toyed with the cross. “My parents haven’t exactly been the best example of a functional marriage.”

“Neither were Besian’s,” she reminded me, “but you two have something his parents didn’t—love.”

“Since we’re giving gifts,” Rina said, appearing from the bedroom. “Luka and I got this for you.” She held out a jewelry box. “Something new.”

“Thank you, Rina.” I opened the box and discovered a pair of pearl and diamond earrings. “Oh my gosh!”

“Put them on,” she urged.

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