‘I don’t want you to be sad,’ she added quickly, looking down at her shoes. ‘I just thought you should know.’
‘You did the right thing, Natty,’ I said, kneeling down and kissing her forehead, pressing her face against my hands. ‘Thank you for telling me, okay?’
I told her I loved her, that everything would be all right, and walked her over to my mum, who was standing by the table with refreshments.
‘Can you sit with her for a bit?’ I asked calmly.
My mum gave me a worried look but said nothing. She hugged Natalie and held her close, whispering something sweet that I didn’t catch.
I turned and headed for the corridor leading to the changing room. My heart felt like it was in a vice, and I couldn’t breathe. Richard was standing by the door, chatting with two colleagues, still smiling as if nothing had changed.
‘Richard,’ I said. My voice was calm and steady. ‘Can you talk to me for a minute? Somewhere private?’
He blinked, but followed me without question. I opened the door to the wedding room and let him in first, then closed it silently behind me.
The anxious hum of the dance hall faded behind the heavy door.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, a nervous smile lighting up his face. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Take off your jacket.’
I slowly crossed the room and turned to face him.
‘What? Why?’ He blinked again.
‘Because I’m asking you nicely,’ I said, trying to keep my balance.
He froze, then slowly took off his jacket. I took a step forward and carefully examined the seam of his white shirt.
And there it was.
A lipstick mark, just as Natalie had said. It wasn’t just a simple smudge, but a perfectly shaped kiss mark. The deep scarlet colour was well embedded in the fabric, as if left there intentionally.
The edges were slightly blurred, as if someone had tried to wipe it off, but the mark stubbornly remained.
‘Where did this come from?’ I pointed to the mark.
He froze.
‘Richard?’ I asked.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said too quickly. ‘It must be my mum, she kissed me when I came in.’
I looked at him in complete bewilderment, the deception was all too obvious on his face.
‘Your mother always wears soft pink lipstick, Richard,’ I said simply. ‘This isn’t pink, it’s dark burgundy. Dramatic red.’
He didn’t answer. I nodded once and walked past him back into the hall. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even tell anyone what had just happened.
Instead, I found my sister, Melody, and leaned in close to her.
‘I need your help with something, Mel,’ I whispered. ‘Right now.’
She looked confused for a moment, then her face took on a serious expression.
‘What kind of thing, Grace?’ she asked softly.
‘Just trust me,’ I said. ‘We’re going to play a little game.’
I quickly told her about the situation with Richard, Natalie and the lipstick mark.
‘I need to know… help me,’ I sighed.
She broke into a smile, and a few seconds later she was standing at the microphone, her voice carrying across the room.
‘Hello, everyone! The bride has a surprise game for you, and the winners will receive very special prizes from the bride herself!’ she began.
The crowd buzzed and turned their heads towards the dance floor, a wave of curiosity sweeping through the room.
Melody smiled as if she had just come up with the game.
‘So, the first challenge! Who is wearing red socks?’ Melody continued, as if she had just invented a new game.
Laughter and merriment filled the room until Will shouted with joy and rushed forward. He lifted his trousers as if showing a trick.
‘Way to go, brother!’ I said, laughing as I handed him chocolate-covered strawberries on a silver platter. He smiled as if he had just won the grand prize.
Melody took the microphone again, still beaming.
‘Next!’ she announced cheerfully. ‘Who is wearing cherry and wine-coloured lipstick? Come forward!’
The energy changed, and the room instantly fell silent. The guests looked at each other, noting possible winners.
The silence dragged on, and everyone began whispering. People turned to each other, rustling. I noticed that some guests at the farthest table glanced at Serena.
She lowered her eyes to her glass, but someone nudged her with their elbow.
Slowly, as if sinking into water, she stood up.
Serena. My colleague from university, my homewrecker friend, the woman who knew every story and every wound I had ever experienced. She had toasted our engagement with a cry of ‘Finally!’ and then hugged me like a sister.
Now she was approaching the dance floor, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor, her face pale.
I met her in the centre.
‘There’s no prize for you,’ I said softly, holding the microphone in my hand. ‘But perhaps you’d like to tell everyone why you kissed my husband? Explain to everyone why you left your mark on Richard.’
Suddenly, the room fell completely silent.
Serena’s mouth opened and closed, as if the words refused to leave her.