Don’t do it, she told herself firmly. Sing the traditional songs. Get paid.
Go home. This isn’t your fight anymore. But another voice inside her whispered.
What about all the other women Richard will hurt? What about Claire who’s walking into this marriage with doubts? What about the truth? Margaret closed her eyes and made a decision. She would bring the sheet music for You Left Me But Love Stayed to the wedding. She would have it ready just in case.
But she wouldn’t decide until the moment came whether to actually sing it. The next few days passed in a blur. Margaret practiced the traditional wedding songs until she could sing them in her sleep.
She tried on the blue dress and made sure it fit properly over her growing belly. She prepared herself mentally for the hardest performance of her life. Vivian came over the night before the wedding with Chinese takeout and moral support.
How are you feeling? Vivian asked, unpacking containers of fried rice and sweet and sour chicken. Terrified, Margaret admitted. But also ready.
Does that make sense? Perfect sense, Vivian said. You’re scared but you’re not backing down. That’s courage.
They ate dinner together, and Vivian helped Margaret pick out simple jewelry to wear with the blue dress, small silver earrings and a delicate necklace that had belonged to Margaret’s grandmother. You’re going to be beautiful, Vivian said, arranging Margaret’s hair in different styles to see which looked best. And when you walk out of that wedding tomorrow night with $3,000, we’re going to celebrate.
I’m going to buy you the biggest piece of chocolate cake in the city. Margaret laughed but it sounded nervous even to her own ears. After Vivian left, Margaret took a long bath and tried to relax.
But her mind kept spinning with thoughts and worries. Tomorrow she would face Richard at his wedding. Tomorrow she would stand on a stage in front of 300 wealthy strangers.
Tomorrow her life would change, she just didn’t know how yet. November 15 dawned cold and clear. Margaret woke up early her stomach full of butterflies.
The baby kicked inside her belly as if sensing her nervousness. It’s okay little one, Margaret whispered rubbing her stomach gently. Mama’s going to be brave today.
For both of us. She took her time getting ready. She washed her hair and styled it in soft waves that fell around her shoulders.
She put on light makeup, just enough to look polished and professional. Then she carefully put on the midnight blue dress Patricia had sent. When Margaret looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized the woman staring back.
She looked elegant. Beautiful even. The dress flowed gracefully over her pregnant belly, and the deep blue color made her skin glow.
You can do this, she told her reflection. You are strong. You are worthy.
You are enough. At three o’clock, a car arrived to take her to the Grand Pearl Hotel. Patricia had arranged for transportation, which Margaret was grateful for.
She sat in the back seat, watching the city pass by through the window, and tried to calm her racing heart. When they arrived at the hotel, Margaret was directed to a small preparation room near the ballroom. Other performers were there too, members of a string quartet who would play during the ceremony.
You must be the vocalist, said an older man holding a violin. I’m Thomas. We’re looking forward to hearing you sing.
Thank you, Margaret said, setting down her bag in her folder of chic music. She had two folders actually. One contained the traditional wedding songs Patricia had requested.
The other contained, You Left Me But Love Stayed. Margaret still hadn’t decided which song she would actually perform. At 4.30, Patricia rushed into the preparation room, looking frazzled but excited.
One hour until the ceremony begins, she announced. Guests are starting to arrive. Margaret you’ll perform Ave Maria, as the bride walks down the aisle, then at last, during the signing of the marriage certificate.
After the ceremony, you’ll perform three more songs during the cocktail hour. Are you ready? I’m ready, Margaret said though her hands were shaking. Patricia smiled warmly.
You’re going to be wonderful. Don’t be nervous. Just sing from your heart.
Sing from your heart. If only Patricia knew how complicated that advice was. At 5 o’clock, Margaret was led to her position near the stage in the ballroom.
She peeked through a side door and saw the transformation that had taken place since the rehearsal. The ballroom was breathtaking. Thousands of white flowers covered every surface.
Candles flickered on every table. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. 300 guests filled the white chairs, all dressed in expensive suits and elegant gowns.
They looked like they had stepped out of a fashion magazine. And at the front of the room standing at the altar in a custom-made tuxedo that probably cost $5,000, was Richard Cole. He looked calm and confident, smiling at guests as they took their seats.
He looked like a man without a care in the world. Like a man who had never hurt anyone. Like a man who deserved all this happiness.
Margaret felt her anger rising again, that cold clear fury that made her see everything with perfect clarity. Five minutes, Patricia whispered to Margaret. The bride is ready.
Take your position on stage. Margaret’s heart hammered in her chest as she walked onto the stage. 300 faces turned to look at her.
She heard whispers. Who’s that? The singer I think. She’s pregnant.
How unusual. Margaret sat down on the small stool beside the microphone. The string quartet took their positions.
Everything was ready. And then through the back doors of the ballroom, Claire Stevens appeared in her $40,000 wedding dress. She looked like a princess from a fairy tale, beautiful, elegant, perfect.
But Margaret saw what others might have missed. Claire’s smile was nervous. Her eyes were uncertain…
