“Of course she knows. She’s probably crying right now, trying to figure out how to spin this.”
I could hear him pacing, his excitement barely contained.
“I’m sending another email to everyone, this time with proof.”
“You don’t understand.”
“I understand perfectly. You’re not my daughter. Your mother lied to me for almost three decades, and now everyone will know exactly what kind of woman Diane Townsend really is.”
He hung up before I could explain that Diane hadn’t lied, that she’d been telling the truth all along, that the real story was something none of us had ever imagined.
Within the hour, Gerald called my mother and told her to pack her bags.
“I want you out of my house by the end of the month,”
he said.
“I’m done with your lies.”
My grandmother drove over immediately to stay with her. When I arrived that evening, I found them both in the living room. My mother curled into the couch like a wounded animal, my grandmother standing guard like a silver-haired sentinel.
“He thinks he’s won,”
I said quietly.
My grandmother looked at me with those sharp, knowing eyes.
“Then let’s show him the rest of the story.”
The next three days were the hardest of my life. I considered cancelling the wedding, not because of Gerald, but because I couldn’t bear the thought of my mother’s vindication being overshadowed by white tulle and champagne toasts.
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