Then she says, very quietly, “You think I’m taking the easy way.”
“No,” I say. “I think you’re cruel when you’re cornered.”
Her eyes flash.
“And I think,” I go on, before I can stop myself, “that you’ve been waiting to use that photo because you wanted me more ashamed than you were.”
Camille is still staring at me when Alina’s voice cuts across the lawn.
“What is going on?”
No one answers her at first.
The guests are still watching. The musicians have gone silent. Viktor is standing in front of me, not touching me, but close enough that I can feel the tension in him. Ethan looks pale and unsteady. Camille looks like she’s being held together by rage alone.
Alina stops a few feet away, takes in the scene, and her expression changes almost immediately. “Camille,” she says. “What happened?”
Camille lets out a laugh that sounds wrong. “Ask your son.”
Alina turns to Ethan. “What did you do?”
He drags a hand over his face and says, “I told her the truth.”
“The truth about what?” Alina asks.
Camille answers before he can. “That he doesn’t want to marry me,” she says. “That he still loves her.” She points at me without taking her eyes off Ethan.
For a second Alina says nothing. She just looks at her son, and whatever she sees there tells her enough. “You said that to her now?” she asks, her voice lower.
Ethan looks away. “Yes.”
“In the middle of the wedding morning.”
He says nothing.
Camille’s face twists. “Don’t say it like he spilled a drink.” Her eyes widen. “Wait, you already knew about it, didn’t you?”
For the first time in her life, my ex-wife looks stumped. “Camille, Ethan is just being dumb. Its just nerves.”
Camille gives a short, cruel laugh. “He stood there and told me he couldn’t go through with it because he’s still in love with the woman who’s apparently been sleeping with his father.”
Alina’s head whips toward Viktor and me this time. “What? You and this girl? Is that why you’ve been defending her all this time? I can’t believe even someone like you would stoop this low.”
Anna is here now too. I don’t even know when she arrived, only that suddenly she’s standing near Alina, eyes moving from one face to another, taking everything in.
Alina looks at Viktor and says, “Tell me that isn’t true. She’s half your age and pregnant.”
Viktor doesn’t answer right away.
That’s answer enough for half the lawn.
Camille laughs again, but now the sound is breaking apart. “There. There it is. Everyone can stop pretending now.”
I feel like I’m standing in the middle of a nightmare that keeps finding new ways to humiliate me.
Before I can speak, Alina says, “Let’s not do this here.” Her voice is controlled, but only just.
Camille turns on her. “Oh, now you care where things happen?”