Chapter 2 - The Groom's Mother"Margaret."
Marcus's voice trembled.
Tiffany turned toward him.
"What?"
He stared at the woman.
"My mother."
Tiffany laughed.
It was a nervous laugh, the kind people make when reality becomes too absurd to accept.
"No."
Marcus didn't move.
"Yes."
Tiffany's smile disappeared.
She looked at Margaret again.
The plain dress.
The modest shoes.
The simple leather handbag.
"But you said your mother lived outside the city."
"She does."
"You said she had a farm."
"She does."
Tiffany swallowed.
"So..."
Marcus's voice became painfully quiet.
"She owns the farm."
A few guests exchanged glances.
Tiffany shook her head.
"Marcus, stop."
"My mother owns the Sterling Grand Estate."
Silence.
"She owns the company that manages this property."
Another whisper moved through the crowd.
"And she paid for this wedding."
Tiffany's face tightened.
"How much?"
Marcus looked at her.
"Everything."
Margaret finally spoke.
"Marcus."
He turned.
"I'm fine."
But she wasn't.
Not emotionally.
Not anymore.
She had spent weeks preparing to welcome the woman her son loved.
Three weeks earlier, she had tried to meet Tiffany at the rehearsal dinner.
Tiffany had refused.
She had told Marcus she was too busy.
Margaret had accepted the insult quietly.
She had believed perhaps the young woman was simply nervous.
Now she understood.
It wasn't nervousness.
It was character.
Margaret touched her bruised cheek.
Then she walked away.
No shouting.
No tears.
May you like
No scene.
That frightened Marcus more than anything.
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