Chapter 3: The Wedding Guest They Buried
I did not sleep that night.
Not because I was angry.
Anger would have been easier.
I was awake because for the first time in years, I realized my family hadn’t simply been cruel.
They had been strategic.
They had created a version of me that didn’t exist.
A dead sister.
A forgotten daughter.
A woman who disappeared before anyone could ask questions.
At 6:12 in the morning, I was already sitting in my office with a cup of coffee growing cold beside me.
Naomi walked in carrying a tablet.
“You look terrible.””
“Good morning to you too.””
“I mean it affectionately.””
“That’s a strange way to show affection.””
She placed the tablet on my desk.
“Security footage from the hotel.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“The wedding planning team requested access records. I asked Marcus’s assistant if there were any concerns about the event.””
“And?””
“And Daniel has been asking questions.””
I frowned.
“What kind of questions?””
Naomi tapped the screen.
“He wanted to know who manages event operations.””
“That would be the hotel.””
“He wanted to know who manages the hotel’s cleaning contract.””
I stared at her.
“Me.””
“Exactly.””
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
Daniel wasn’t afraid of me showing up.
He was afraid of me being recognized.
“He doesn’t know,” Naomi said.
“Doesn’t know what?””
“That you’re the owner.””
I leaned back.
“He knows my company exists.””
“No. He knows Bennett Facility Solutions exists. He doesn’t know Claire Bennett owns it.””
I thought about all the family dinners.
All the birthdays.
All the conversations where Daniel complained about successful people while assuming I was barely surviving.
He had never asked.
Not once.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Victoria.
*Please meet me before the wedding. Alone.*
I stared at it.
Then another message appeared.
*I owe you an explanation.*
I drove to a small café twenty minutes away from the hotel.
Victoria arrived wearing sunglasses and a simple coat.
Nothing like the glamorous bride from the magazines.
She looked exhausted.
“Claire.””
I stood.
“Victoria.””
For a moment, we just looked at each other.
Then she hugged me.
I froze.
Nobody in my family had hugged me in years without wanting something.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
I stepped back.
“For what?””
“For believing him.””
We sat down.
Victoria wrapped both hands around her coffee.
“Daniel told me you died five years ago.””
“I know.””
“He said you were in an accident.””
“I wasn’t.””
“I know that now.””
I watched her carefully.
“How?””
She looked down.
“Because my father showed me the contract.””
“The contract?””
“Bennett Facility Solutions.””
My heart stopped.
Victoria continued.
“When Daniel and I got engaged, my father reviewed every major vendor connected to the wedding. He noticed your company name.””
She gave a small, disbelieving laugh.
“He said, ‘That’s an unusual coincidence. The owner has the same name as your brother’s dead sister.’”
I said nothing.
“Daniel told us you were not that person.””
“Of course he did.””
“He said it was just a name.””
“And you believed him?””
Victoria looked ashamed.
“I wanted to.””
That answer was honest.
And somehow that hurt less.
“Why?””
“Because I loved him.””
The café suddenly felt too quiet.
Victoria continued.
“But then I started noticing things.””
“Like what?””
“He never talks about his childhood.””
I raised an eyebrow.
“That’s new.””
“He gets angry whenever someone asks about you.””
She swallowed.
“And last week, I found old family photos.””
I looked at her.
“What photos?””
“You.””
My fingers tightened around my cup.
“He kept them hidden.””
“Why?””
“I don’t know.””
Then Victoria reached into her purse.
She placed a photograph on the table.
It was old.
A family picture.
My parents.
Daniel.
Lauren.
Me.
We were standing outside our childhood home.
I was seventeen.
Daniel was smiling beside me.
A smile I hadn’t seen in years.
“He told me he hated talking about his past because of your death.””
I looked at the photograph.
“He was lying.””
“Yes.””
The way she said it made my chest tighten.
She wasn’t defending him anymore.
She was trying to understand him.
“Claire,” she whispered.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone who you were?””
I looked out the window.
Because the truth was embarrassing.
Not my company.
Not my success.
The fact that I had spent so many years hoping people who rejected me would eventually choose me.
“Because I wanted to know if they loved me without knowing what I had built.””
Victoria’s eyes softened.
“And now?””
“Now I know.””
A tear slipped down her cheek.
“I’m sorry.””
I looked at her.
“Are you still marrying him?””
The question hung between us.
Victoria didn’t answer immediately.
“I don’t know.””
That was enough.
A notification appeared on her phone.
She looked at it.
Then her expression changed.
“What?””
She turned the screen toward me.
A message from Daniel.
*Where are you?*
Then another.
*Who are you with?*
Then another.
*Victoria, answer me.*
She locked the phone.
“He knows.””
“About us?””
“Yes.””
My phone rang.
Daniel.
I stared at his name.
Victoria whispered, “Don’t answer.””
But I did.
“Hello, Daniel.””
His breathing was heavy.
“Claire.””
“What?””
“You met Victoria.””
Not a question.
A statement.
“Yes.””
“You need to leave.””
I almost smiled.
“Leave what?””
“The wedding.””
“I’m not even there.””
“You know what I mean.””
I looked at Victoria.
“Why are you scared?””
Silence.
Then Daniel said something I never expected.
“Because if they know who you are, everything changes.””
The call ended.
But not before I heard one final sound.
A voice in the background.
My father.
“Daniel?””
A pause.
May you like
Then:
“Who was Claire talking to?””
