Chapter 3: What Happens After the Wedding
"Read it," Denise whispered.
Dad stared at the tablet.
Tiffany stood frozen beside the couch, her hands clenched around the fabric of her dress.
"What is this?"" Dad asked.
Denise swallowed.
"It's an email chain. Between Tiffany and someone from the wedding planning company.""
"Why would a wedding planner be discussing my daughter?""
Denise didn't answer.
Instead, she turned the tablet toward him.
At the top of the screen was a message dated six days earlier.
*Subject: Ariana — Final Arrangements After the Ceremony*
Dad read the first few lines.
Then he read them again.
His expression shifted from confusion to disbelief.
"What arrangements?""
Tiffany stepped forward.
"Khalil, that's private correspondence.""
He raised his eyes.
"Private?""
"You're misunderstanding it.""
He looked back at the screen.
"You're planning to send Ariana away?""
Tiffany's face flushed.
"It's not what it looks like.""
Denise spoke before Dad could respond.
"She asked me to help find a residential school.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"What?""
Dad looked at Denise.
"What kind of school?""
Denise hesitated.
"One in another state. A boarding program.""
I stepped closer.
"You're sending me away?""
Tiffany threw her hands up.
"Don't make it sound so terrible! It's a good school!""
"You never asked me!""
"Because you would have said no!""
Dad's voice became dangerously quiet.
"Why would you make plans for my daughter without discussing them with me?""
Tiffany pointed at me.
"Because somebody has to think about the future of this family!""
I stared at her.
"What future?""
She turned toward me.
"The future where I can finally have a peaceful marriage without constantly competing with a child who thinks the entire world revolves around her.""
Dad stepped forward.
"Choose your next words carefully.""
Tiffany's eyes widened.
"You're taking her side again?""
"She's my daughter.""
"And I'm supposed to be your wife!""
"You're not my wife yet.""
The words seemed to hit her harder than a slap.
Denise placed the tablet on the coffee table.
"There is more.""
Tiffany closed her eyes.
"Please stop.""
Denise shook her head.
"No. I'm done lying.""
She opened another message.
This one was from Tiffany to a man named Gregory, the wedding planner's assistant.
It contained a list of tasks.
1. Arrange Ariana's transfer after the wedding. 2. Remove her personal belongings from the upstairs bedroom.
3. Have the room repainted and converted into a nursery. 4. Make sure Khalil signs the final paperwork before the ceremony.
Dad looked up.
"A nursery?""
I stared at the list.
My bedroom.
My mother's old bedroom.
The room Dad had promised would always be mine.
"What nursery?"" I whispered.
Tiffany pressed her lips together.
Denise looked uncomfortable.
"She told me she was expecting.""
The room went silent.
Dad slowly turned toward Tiffany.
"You're pregnant?""
Tiffany didn't answer.
"Tiffany. Are you pregnant?""
She placed one hand over her stomach.
"Yes.""
My father took a step backward.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"I wanted to surprise you after the wedding.""
"When were you planning to tell me?""
"After everything was settled.""
I looked at the tablet again.
The fourth item suddenly made sense.
Make sure Khalil signs the final paperwork before the ceremony.
"What paperwork?"" Dad asked.
Denise hesitated.
"There's another document.""
She opened a PDF attachment.
Dad took the tablet from her.
I watched his eyes move across the page.
Then he stopped.
"What the hell is this?""
Tiffany's face had gone completely white.
Dad looked at her.
"You asked me to sign over guardianship?""
"It's just temporary.""
"Temporary?""
"Until Ariana adjusts to the school.""
"She's my daughter!""
"I know that!""
"Then why are you trying to send her away?""
Tiffany's voice rose.
"Because I can't raise your child while raising my own!""
Dad stared at her.
The silence that followed was worse than shouting.
I felt cold all over.
"You said you loved me," I whispered.
Tiffany looked at me.
For the first time, she seemed to realize I was listening to every word.
"Ariana, this is an adult conversation.""
"No. You made it my conversation when you packed my suitcase.""
She looked away.
Dad placed the tablet on the table.
"Denise, is there anything else?""
Denise nodded slowly.
"I found a second folder.""
Tiffany's head snapped around.
"Denise, I swear—"
"I found it because you asked me to print the wedding documents.""
Denise pulled her phone from her pocket.
She opened a photograph of a handwritten note.
At the top was a date: the day after the wedding.
Below it were three lines.
*Ariana out of the house before honeymoon.*
*Room converted before baby arrives.*
*Khalil must not know about the transfer until everything is signed.*
Dad stared at the photograph.
Then he looked at Tiffany.
"You were going to marry me, send my daughter away, and make me sign the documents without knowing what they were?""
Tiffany began crying again.
"That's not fair.""
"What's not fair?""
"I was trying to make things work!""
"By deceiving me?""
She wiped her cheeks.
"You don't understand what it's like living with a constant reminder that you had a whole life before me.""
I felt my fingers tighten around my phone.
Dad's expression hardened.
"Her mother died. She's not a reminder. She's a child who lost her mother.""
Tiffany shook her head.
"I didn't mean it like that.""
"Then what did you mean?""
She looked at him, then at me.
For a moment, I thought she might finally apologize.
Instead, she said something that made my chest hurt.
"Ever since Ariana came into my life, I've never been your first priority.""
Dad took a long breath.
"She didn't come into your life. You chose to come into hers.""
Tiffany stepped toward him.
"Khalil, please. We can talk about this privately.""
"No.""
"Not in front of her.""
"Especially in front of her.""
He turned to me.
"Go upstairs and get your things.""
I froze.
Tiffany gave a small, victorious smile.
Then Dad continued.
"Not because you're leaving. Because I want to make sure nothing of your mother's is missing.""
The smile disappeared.
He picked up my broken photograph and carefully removed the remaining pieces of glass.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart.""
I couldn't hold it anymore.
The tears came all at once.
He wrapped his arms around me, and for the first time in months, I let myself cry against his shoulder.
"I'm sorry I didn't see it," he whispered.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here.""
I shook my head.
"I tried telling you.""
"I know.""
"I thought you wouldn't believe me.""
Dad closed his eyes.
"I should have.""
Behind us, Tiffany began gathering her purse.
Denise noticed.
"Where are you going?""
Tiffany didn't answer.
Dad stepped away from me.
"Put the purse down.""
She stared at him.
"You can't tell me what to do.""
"This is my house. And until we establish exactly what you've done, you're not taking anything that belongs to my daughter.""
Tiffany laughed bitterly.
"You're making a huge mistake.""
Dad looked at her.
"No. I made one when I ignored the warning signs.""
He took out his phone.
I watched him scroll through his contacts.
"Who are you calling?"" Tiffany demanded.
"My attorney.""
Her face changed.
Then her own phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen.
One notification.
Then another.
Her expression turned strangely calm.
She looked up at Dad.
"Before you make that call, there's something you should know.""
Dad lowered his phone.
"What?""
Tiffany slowly turned her screen toward him.
It showed a message from an unknown number.
*The transfer documents have already been submitted.*
Dad stared at it.
"Submitted where?""
Tiffany looked at me.
Then she smiled without warmth.
May you like
"That's the part you should have asked about before you came home.""
And suddenly, I realized the suitcase by the front door might not have been the only thing Tiffany had prepared for my departure.
