Later that evening, Dad pulled me aside. ‘I like him, Eliza. He’s got substance.’
‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘Your mother will come around,’ he assured me, though I could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t quite believe it. ‘Just give her time.’
‘I don’t care,’ I replied, watching Brian help clear the table despite Mum’s protests. ‘I’m going to marry him anyway.’
The months leading up to our wedding were tense. Mum made snide remarks at every planning meeting, questioning Brian’s family’s absence.
‘They’re very private people,’ I explained.
She ridiculed his career choice. ‘Books are dying, you know!’
And she didn’t even spare his clothes. ‘Doesn’t he have anything that wasn’t bought at a department store?’
The night before our wedding, she cornered me in my childhood bedroom.
‘It’s not too late to call it off,’ she said, sitting on the edge of my bed. ‘People will understand.’
I stared at her incredulously. ‘I love him, Mum.’
‘Love doesn’t last, Eliza. But security does. And money, too.’
‘I don’t care about money… he makes me feel safe.’
‘With what? Books from the library?’ She shook her head. ‘I raised you for better things.’
‘You raised me to be happy, Mum. At least Dad did.’
Her face hardened. ‘I promise I’ll behave myself tomorrow. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘Just promise you won’t make a scene,’ I begged.
She pressed her hand to her heart. ‘I promise to act only in your best interests.’
I should have guessed what she was up to.
‘I’ll hold you to that, Mum,’ I said, not realising what a loophole I had left her.
Our wedding day dawned bright and beautiful. The venue — a historic library with vaulted ceilings and stained-glass windows — was Brian’s dream.
The guests were seated among rows of antique books, and when the music began, I walked down the aisle, strewn with rose petals, with my father by my side.
Brian was waiting at the altar, looking more handsome than I had ever seen him in his tailor-made suit, and his eyes filled with tears when I approached.
‘You look so beautiful,’ he whispered as my father took my hand in his.
The ceremony was going perfectly until the priest asked the dreaded question: ‘If anyone has any objections, speak now or forever hold your peace.’
There was silence, and then the rustle of fabric. My blood ran cold as I turned and saw my mother standing with a serious expression on her face. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd.
She wiped her eyes with a silk handkerchief and cleared her throat dramatically. ‘I just need to tell my truth before it’s too late.’
A stunned silence fell over the room.
‘Mum,’ I hissed, ‘what are you doing?’
She ignored me and turned to our guests. ‘I love my daughter and want the best for her. But this man,’ she gestured towards Brian as if he were something she had found stuck to her shoe, “is simply not good enough. She could have a doctor, a lawyer, a man with real success. Instead, she’s throwing her future away on… THIS.”
I couldn’t move. My father’s face turned pale with horror. My friends whispered among themselves. The master of ceremonies looked completely confused; he clearly wasn’t prepared for this situation.
Brian, however, smiled. He gently squeezed my hands and turned to face Mum.
‘You’re right,’ he said, nodding. ‘She deserves the best.’
My mother straightened up, a triumphant gleam appearing in her eyes. But then Brian reached into his suit pocket, took out a folded document, and handed it to her.
‘What’s this?’ she asked, frowning as she unfolded the document hesitantly.
As her eyes scanned the page, the colour drained from her face.
‘Do you recognise this?’ Brian asked, his voice calm. ‘It’s the credit report you failed.’
My mother gasped, her hand flying to her throat.
‘I did some checking,’ he continued, still smiling politely. “I wanted to see if the woman who constantly brags about her wealth and status is really as well-off as she claims to be. It turns out you’re drowning in credit card debt, you have a second mortgage you never mentioned, and… oh, my favourite part — you were denied credit just last month.”
The guests fell silent. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.
‘Brian,’ I whispered, stunned by this revelation.
My mother’s lips parted, but no sound came out.
‘That’s private information,’ she finally managed to stammer.
Brian chuckled. ‘You see, I always knew you didn’t like me because I didn’t fit your idea of what a rich person should be like. But here’s the thing…’ He paused, looking at me with love in his eyes. Then he turned back to my mother.
‘I’m a billionaire.’
My breath caught in my throat. Dad, standing next to me, literally gasped for air. A collective sigh rippled through the crowd.
Mum stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over her expensive heels.
‘What?’ I whispered, looking at Brian in confusion.