Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
I’m the one in the big white dress.
I hate Annie so much. I also love her. Because I look incredible, thanks to her fantastic taste, but that also means the eyes won’t look away.
“Breathe, Tallie.” Brenden’s voice. His hands grip mine, his fingers hard and calloused. Those are hands of a man who uses them. I hadn’t noticed the first time we met, but now I focus on the details, on the clipped nails and the scarred knuckles. “You’re swaying.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not. Breathe. Come on, with me. In for three… out for three…”
I fall into this rhythm. The priest keeps going, oblivious, his voice magnified over the PA system like the booming noise of God himself. Brenden talks me down, and I don’t know how he does it, with all these eyes in the room. Only Annie’s ever been able to bring me back after I’ve gone this far.
But Brenden’s steady. He’s patient and calm. I find myself clinging to his strength and breathing, just breathing, over and over, until it’s my turn to say the vows.
It’s not so far. I repeat the words. Not even that loud. I doubt the people in the back can hear. Screw them—they should’ve gotten better seats.
“By the power vested in me by the Lord our God and the state of Maryland, I present to you all the happy couple. You may kiss the bride.”
Brenden’s arms wrap around me. He hugs me close, mouth burying mine, but it’s chaste and short, not what I always dreamed of my big wedding kiss. What surprises me though is his voice, his mouth near my ear. “You’re okay,” he says. “I still got you. Keep breathing.”
Then we’re walking together down the aisle, there’s clapping, happy faces, people I know and don’t know, and my siblings. Almost all of them too. Hovik, the oldest, a mirror of my father; Vartan, brooding and terrifying; Gor, the violent one, grinning at me and blowing a kiss; Sam and Davit sitting together, Davit crying like a baby, Sam looking bored. I wish Miriam and Tate were here, but they’re gone and won’t let themselves come back.
“Almost done,” Brenden says as I’m steered toward a back door. “You going to puke?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“You sure? You looked bad.”
“I’m fine.’
“You’re still pale.”
“I said I’m fine.” I elbow him but there’s no anger or force behind it. I lean into his side. “And thank you.”
“We’re in this together now, Tallie.”
I almost believe him. That’s the sick part. But what’s Brenden if not a very good liar? He’s a thief, and that’s what thieves do. They create versions of the world, they spin stories and emotions until they get what they want, and then they leave.
Can I actually trust my husband? Can I ever find him again now that he’s got all those layers of armor burying him once more?
The reception is at the Sarkissian mansion. I’m paraded around the guests and to my frank astonishment, Brenden doesn’t stray from my side. I keep waiting for him to disappear, to get pulled off to do whatever it is he does, but no. Brenden remains, a looming, towering comfort. Every time a conversation drags on too long, he finds an excuse. I’m never trapped, although now I am, every single second of every day. Even Annie seems surprised, and by the time I’m in the back of a black car with her, she shifts closer and leans her head on my shoulder.
“He did good back there,” she says casually, slipping her fingers into mine.
“What do you mean?”
“I thought you were going to puke.”
“Why do people keep saying that?!”
“You were green.”
“I was not!”
“Green,” she repeats, shaking with laughter. “But Brenden stepped up. I thought I was going to have to do it, but nope. I’m kind of impressed.”
“He was fine. And I wasn’t going to puke.” I look out the window as we pull down the mansion driveway. “I was probably going to faint though.”
The guests gather outside several lavish tents set up in the enormous back garden. Fans whirr, cooling the stuffy spaces, and staff wander with passing trays heaped with food and drink. Hundreds of Baltimore’s most important people gorge themselves. Politicians, business leaders, generic rich assholes. Some I recognize, most I’ve never seen before. The Sarkissian family is all there, which is nice. I like that my oldest siblings showed up. Hovik hugs me awkwardly, Vartan pats my head like a dog. At least Davit throws his arms around me and cries into my chest. “That was so beautiful!” he wails while Sam rolls his eyes and mimes cutting Davit’s throat.
It’s a lot. Annie gets me champagne. That helps, but I’m still overwhelmed, and it takes a while to realize Brenden’s nowhere to be seen. Which shouldn’t surprise me. His performance at the church was the outlier. This is more like him, flakey and prone and fading away, but now it pisses me off.