Chapter 2 - THE GIFT I TORE IN HALFCassie extended her hand.
“Finally.”
That single word removed the last trace of doubt from my mind.
Trevor closed his eyes as though he wished he could disappear.
Our mother, Diane, stood between us, frozen beneath the ballroom’s golden lights.
I looked at the envelope.
Then at Cassie.
“I was going to give you this after the reception.”
“What is it?”
“A deed.”
Her expression changed.
“A what?”
“The deed to the building where Everly Bridal operates.”
Silence.
Cassie’s boutique occupied a renovated brick storefront in Bryn Mawr. She had spent years telling people she had built her business from nothing.
That wasn’t exactly true.
Daniel and I had purchased the building during the recession, back when it housed a struggling furniture store.
When Cassie graduated from design school and announced she wanted to start a bridal shop, Daniel suggested letting her use the property.
“No rent for the first year,” he had said.
One year became two.
Then three.
Daniel never complained.
Family mattered to him.
After he died, I continued honoring the arrangement.
Cassie had never paid property taxes.
Never paid building insurance.
Never paid rent.
I had covered all of it.
Roughly $4,800 a month.
Cassie stepped toward me.
“You’re giving me the building?”
“I was.”
Her smile disappeared.
“What do you mean, was?”
I opened the envelope.
Inside sat the unsigned transfer papers my attorney had prepared.
I had planned to sign them in front of a notary the following Monday.
I removed the pages.
“This building was supposed to be your real wedding present.”
Cassie stared.
Mom whispered my name.
“Rachel…”
I ignored her.
“Daniel believed family should help family. When you wanted to start your business, he convinced me to let you use our property rent-free.”
Several guests exchanged looks.
Cassie’s expression hardened.
“You don’t have to tell everybody our business.”
“You made my gift everybody’s business.”
Someone near the rear of the room murmured, “She has a point.”
Cassie heard it.
Her face reddened.
I continued.
“For thirty-two months, you haven’t paid one dollar in rent.”
Trevor slowly turned toward her.
“What?”
Cassie glanced at him.
“I told you we had an arrangement.”
“You told me the building belonged to you.”
“It basically does.”
“No,” I said. “It belongs to me.”
Trevor looked stunned.
Cassie reached for the papers.
“Give those to me.”
I moved them away.
“No.”
“Rachel, stop being dramatic.”
I nearly laughed.
“Dramatic?”
“You’re humiliating me at my wedding.”
I looked down at Lily.
She was trying not to cry.
“You humiliated a sick ten-year-old because her mother didn’t give you enough money.”
Cassie lowered her voice.
“Don’t use Lily to make me look bad.”
“You did that yourself.”
I took the top sheet.
Then I tore it in half.
The sound was surprisingly soft.
But in the silent ballroom, it seemed enormous.
Cassie gasped.
“What are you doing?”
I tore the second page.
Then the third.
Mom hurried toward me.
“Rachel, wait.”
“No.”
“Think about this.”
“I have.”
Cassie lunged forward and grabbed one corner.
“You can’t take this away because you’re angry!”
“It was never yours.”
“It was promised!”
“No. It was going to be a gift.”
I dropped the torn pages into the empty champagne bucket beside the DJ.
Cassie stared at them.
Her face went pale.
Then furious.
“You spiteful bitch.”
Trevor whispered, “Cassie.”
She ignored him.
“You’re jealous because I still have a husband.”
The ballroom seemed to inhale.
I felt Lily flinch.
Cassie realized too late what she had said.
My grief did not explode.
It settled.
Cold.
Clean.
Final.
I handed the microphone to the DJ.
“Come on, Lily.”
We walked toward the doors.
Mom followed.
“Rachel, please.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“You know Cassie gets emotional.”
“She just mocked my dead husband.”
“She didn’t mean it.”
“That excuse has protected her for thirty years.”
Mom’s face tightened.
“This is her wedding.”
“And Lily is my daughter.”
Cassie’s voice came from behind us.
“You leave tonight and don’t bother coming back to my life.”
I turned.
“Okay.”
That answer frightened her more than shouting would have.
I helped Lily into her coat.
As we stepped outside, cold October air hit my face.
The valet hurried toward us.
Lily waited until we were alone beside my car.
Then she began crying.
“I ruined Aunt Cassie’s wedding.”
I dropped to my knees.
“No.”
“She said I was coughing.”
“You didn’t ruin anything.”
“But everyone was mad.”
“Sweetheart, listen to me.”
I held her face gently.
“You never have to apologize for being sick.”
She sniffed.
“Is Aunt Cassie mad because we’re poor now?”
The question hurt.
“We’re not poor.”
“But you said hospital bills cost a lot.”
“That doesn’t make us less valuable.”
She looked toward the glowing ballroom windows.
“Why does she care how much the check was?”
“Because sometimes people get so focused on what things cost that they forget what people are worth.”
Lily considered that.
Then she hugged me.
On the drive home, my phone rang nine times.
Mom.
Dad.
Mom again.
Cassie.
An unknown number.
Trevor.
Cassie.
Dad.
Mom.
I didn’t answer.
At home, Lily changed into pajamas and fell asleep beside me on the couch.
At 1:14 a.m., I finally checked my messages.
Mom: Call me immediately.
Dad: We need to fix this before morning.
Cassie: You WILL NOT take my business away from me.
Trevor: Rachel, please call when you can.
Then came another message.
From my attorney, Benjamin Cole.
I had emailed him from the parking lot before driving home.
His reply contained one sentence.
Understood. I’ll prepare a formal lease termination notice first thing Monday.
I stared at the screen.
I wasn’t planning to destroy Cassie’s business.
I wasn’t interested in revenge.
I simply wasn’t going to finance someone who believed kindness was weakness.
Then another message appeared.
This one came from Cassie.
You think you won tonight? Check Facebook.
I opened the app.
Cassie had posted a photograph from the wedding.
A photograph of herself crying.
The caption read:
Imagine having your own sister destroy your wedding because she’s jealous of your happiness.
It already had 1,800 comments.
And beneath it, Cassie had written something that made my blood run cold.
May you like
Some people will even use their sick children for attention.
Lily’s name was tagged.
Related Stories
