My box.
A trillion questions flitted through my mind. How long has she had them? Why did she have them? And what could it possibly mean that it now sat between us?
“We need to talk,” my mother said.
I dragged my eyes away from the box, finding her dark-blue ones. Warm, Mediterranean night air whispered through gauzy curtains.
“In a few weeks’ time your grandfather will close this deal, and then your fiancé will meet us in Switzerland.”
The wrinkle in my brow deepened. This hardly seemed so important to discuss at two in the morning. My eyes flittered to the box.
“Okay…” was all I managed.
She pulled the box into her lap. “I’ve seen your evidence. A few pictures are nothing to be concerned about.”
She flitted through the photos and letters. I was missing a key bit of information. I still wasn’t grasping it. It was there, close, a needle digging the tip of my tongue.
She lifted her head. “What are you hoping to accomplish, Abigail? All I see here are love letters from a future fiancé. Ned Harlington is a good…”
When she said his name, all the rest of her words faded to darkness. I stared at the box in my mom’s hands. Harlington, the very same Harlington I’d heard spoken over and over since the acquisition began. The dots had been there, but I’d never quite connected them.
“Ned… is Edward Harlington?”
“The son of the man your grandfather has been trying to back into a deal for more than a year, your fiancé.”
Everything clicked into place. The roses in Crowne Hall. The Fourth party where I supposedly met my fiancé.
I could barely breathe. “Why is everyone calling him Edward?”
My mother blinked slowly. “Why do people call you Abby, Abigail?” Silence followed as my heart raced and nausea consumed me.
I was going to marry someone who’d drugged me, stalked me, threatened me. What would happen when there was no distance between us, no walls to keep me safe?
“We can’t afford a classic Abigail scene,” my mom said. “Nothing seems to be working with you. The only reason I submitted to having that boy back was to keep you on a leash. I think it’s time to send him away—”
“No, no. I’ll be good.” Send Theo away—again? “I’ll be better.”
Her sharp eyes narrowed, catching. Had I let on I cared too much? I knew if I backtracked, it would solidify what she suspected.
“I…” I swallowed. “I didn’t know. I didn’t realize who it was.”
I should’ve known. I should’ve connected the dots. I hoped in vain we could end it here, and Mom would let me pretend this never happened.
But he would be in Switzerland?
My throat closed at the thought.
She exhaled through her nostrils. “Edward Harlington is from a good family, he could marry any girl he wants, and he chose you. He chose us. I can’t even find it in me to be shocked you’re trying to ruin this—”
“I…” I cut her off, voice scratchy. “I made a mistake.”
I stared at the floor, willing a hole to open up and suck me in.
She eyed me with a sigh. “Come here.” I stood up, finding a seat next to her on the antique couch. “You know I don’t like being harsh with you.” She hugged me. She caressed my hair, holding me like she had when I was a little girl.
“I know,” I mumbled into her shoulder.
She sighed again, her disappointment seeping like water into my bones, deeper still, until I didn’t know where it had gone and could only feel it. Weathering and cold. Her fingers stroked through my hair, separating it like water in the way only she could.