Page 2 of Wedding Season
“What makes you think that, honey?” Mariella’s phone buzzed, but she ignored it. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Emma at the window of the bakery. The Wildflower Inn wasn’t far from downtown. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head. There was something this bride needed to tell her. If Emma burst in now, Suzette might clam up again and take off before they could salvage her day.
Once again, Mariella marveled at the fact that she was the one trying to save a wedding as opposed to wrecking it.
Suzette’s mouth pinched into a thin line. “There’s something he doesn’t know about me. About my past.”
“I saw the way that man looks at you. I can’t imagine there’s anything you could tell him that would make a difference.”
“I’m not who he thinks I am.”
Mariella had seen and heard a lot in her day, but she might be in over her head on this one. Then she thought about Emma as well as Angi, who had given up the security of working in her family’s Italian restaurant to manage catering for the inn. How much every event meant to each of them. She would not let down her friends. She’d let down too many people in her life already.
“Are you a spy? Or a serial killer? Because I can see how that would be a deal breaker for some people.”
“I’m adopted,” Suzette whispered as if she were sharing something way worse than body parts in the freezer.
Mariella’s heart gave a little thud, but she reminded herself that this was about the troubled bride and not her own regrettable past. “Is your biological father a serial killer?” she asked quietly.
Suzette huffed out a humorless laugh. “I don’t know my biological father, and I’ve only met my mother once. I tried to track them down when James and I got engaged. It’s only fair that he knows where I come from. I wanted to know, too.”
“What happened?” Mariella’s heart was accelerating at an alarming clip. “What did you find?”
“Nothing about my father. But I tracked down the woman who gave birth to me. I refuse to call her my mother because she wants nothing to do with me even now. She wouldn’t even talk to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
Suzette gave a shaky nod. “I couldn’t tell James. What would he think of me? Why would he want to be with a woman who is so unwanted even after twenty-seven years?”
“Your birth mother’s actions have nothing to do with you.” It was easy for Mariella to say those words with complete conviction. “I met your parents the day you toured the inn. Your mom was thrilled to see you so happy. You have a family who loves you. You have a fiancé who loves you.”
“I’m not worthy of that love. If he knew—”
“It doesn’t change a thing.”
Mariella looked up as her runaway bride gasped. The groom in his black tux and white cummerbund stood at the side of the table.
“There’s nothing that could make me not love you, Suzie-Q. Even you running away on our wedding day.”
A soft sob escaped Suzette. “I’m doing it for your benefit. You should be with somebody amazing.”
“I am.”
Mariella glanced around and realized everyone in the bakery was staring at them. But James was oblivious to anyone except Suzette.
He dropped to his knee in front of her. “You are the love of my life. You are the woman I want to grow old with. I wish you would have told me sooner since it was important to you, but it doesn’t make a difference. I love the person you are. I love you. I don’t care about what happened in the past. Just please don’t give up on our future.”
Mariella wasn’t a crier, but even she dabbed at the corner of one eye as Suzette threw herself into her beloved’s arms.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I didn’t have more faith in us. I just felt so worthless when she rejected me again.”
“That woman doesn’t deserve to have you in her life, sweetheart. Your real parents are waiting back at the inn along with our family and friends. We love you. I love you.”
Emma stepped forward, offering Mariella a grateful nod.
“I think this love story deserves a true happily-ever-after in the form of the most amazing wedding and reception you can imagine. Shall we all head back to the Wildflower?”
Suzette smiled, then her face crumpled as she glanced down at her dress. “I’ve ruined it,” she said with a sniff.
Mariella stood. “I can fix this.” She untied the fabric that wound around the bride’s waist and then covered the jelly stain before making a bow out of the excess tulle. “You’re perfect. The most perfect bride who ever was.”
