Page 75 of Wedding Season
From what Mariella could tell, Theresa Marshall, the bride in question, seemed to be frequently vanquished by her emotions. Mariella slowed then stepped onto the thick grass, still moist with dawn dew.
There was no reason to panic, she told herself. Theresa hadn’t given any indication she might be having second thoughts or in the market to add herself to the Wildflower’s list of brides with cold feet.
She certainly seemed happy enough two days earlier when they’d met for the final fitting for her gown. Theresa had chosen a simple peasant-style dress with tiny daisies embroidered along the bodice.
It was a departure from the gowns Mariella normally created, even since she’d reinvented herself as a custom wedding-gown designer for Wildflower brides. She loved catering to what her customer wanted without needless worry over her brand.
Wiping away the sweat from her forehead with the hem of her athletic tank top, she slowly approached the park bench where Theresa sat, as if the woman might bolt at any second. “Are you contemplating your last few hours as a free woman?” she asked then wanted to smack herself upside the head.
If the bride was considering running, the last thing she needed was a reminder about giving up her freedom, whatever that might mean to her.
Mariella also knew that if the woman wanted to back out of the wedding, she’d find a way to help her.
At the end of the day, it didn’t matter if the situation meant more bad press for the inn. Mariella wanted the people she worked with to be happy no matter how that looked for them. Emma and Angi would feel the same.
“I’m going to be truly free when I am finally married,” Theresa said with a tragic smile.
“Those are happy words spoken in the saddest tone I’ve ever heard. I haven’t met your soon-to-be husband but I hope he’s a man who makes you happy.”
Theresa dashed a hand across her cheeks, brushing away tears and the remnants of smudged mascara. “Charly makes me so happy. My life hasn’t been the easiest. He’s taking on a lot with me.”
Mariella sat cross-legged on the grass in front of the woman, who seemed to need a little extra physical space for herself. “We all have baggage.”
Theresa shook her head. “Not like mine. Let’s just say my uncle wasn’t a good man. He was a very, very bad man. I don’t want to give voice to the things he did. The things people who said they loved me ignored. Not today. Today is about my next chapter with Charly.”
Mariella forced down the sick feeling rising in her gut at what this sweet woman left unsaid. “It sounds like you’re having trouble releasing the past. Sometimes it’s difficult to step into the future or even appreciate the present moment when what came before looms so large in your mind and heart.”
Mariella could be giving that advice to herself as much as to the anxious bride. She still harbored guilt from the mistakes she’d made years ago, unable to truly claim the life she wanted because of her inability to let go.
Yet it was easier to be a cheerleader for someone she barely knew than take a hard look at her own life.
“That’s why I came out here this morning,” Theresa told her. “It’s not that I don’t want to marry Charly or I’m having second thoughts. If he’s willing to marry me with everything he knows, I’d be a fool not to. But I don’t know how to move forward without allowing the past to retain its power over me. I don’t want to give my family the satisfaction of that.”
“Are they coming to the wedding?” Mariella almost hated to ask the question. “I realize we never got into that during your fitting. I’m sorry for not being more of a support to you. You were quiet, and I didn’t want to overstep. I let the client take the lead on how much she wants to share.”
“You were right,” Theresa said sweetly. “I didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe I should have because I’ve been a nervous wreck. My family isn’t coming. No one but my cousin. She’s the only one who believed me when I revealed what was happening.” Her rosebud mouth thinned. “I wish our uncle wouldn’t have given her a reason to know that I was telling the truth.”
Mariella felt like her heart would break in two for this girl. “You are here, Theresa. You survived. Charly loves you for that. I bet if I asked him, he’d say he was just as lucky to be marrying you. Don’t let the past keep its hold on you. It won’t be easy and I’m sure there are people you can talk to who will help way more than I ever could. Just know that I don’t see you as a victim. I see you as the woman you are now, ready to claim her own happiness. You can do this. I believe in you.”
Mariella took the woman’s hand—which was about ten paces outside her comfort zone—as Theresa cried for a few more minutes. After releasing Mariella, she wiped her face again and rose from the bench.
“I’m glad you stopped to talk to me, although I promise I wasn’t in jeopardy of being one of your runaway brides.”
“That’s a relief,” Mariella said quietly. “But we want what’s best for you.”
“What’s best for me is marrying Charly and having a happy life. Isn’t that the best revenge against the people who did you wrong? Finding happiness despite what you had to go through to get it.”
“I think you’re right.” Mariella dabbed at the corner of one eye, telling herself it was just an errant bead of sweat. “I think you’ve helped me more than I’ve helped you.”
Theresa offered a genuine smile then glanced at her watch. “I should get back before they notice I left. I don’t want anyone to worry, especially not Charly. He only needs to know there’s no place that I’d rather be than at his side for the rest of our lives.”
Theresa hugged Mariella tightly—which Mariella took more comfort in than she’d admit—then headed toward a hatchback parked on the other side of the town square.
Mariella drew in a shaky breath as she headed toward the street again. She hadn’t finished her run for the day but her knees felt too weak for jogging.
She headed toward the bakery, unsurprised to find Heather and Alex at a table together, poring over some sort of work stuff on the girl’s laptop.
Everyone was working overtime to get ready before the festival next weekend.
