CHAPTER 2: THE WEDDING
We got married on a Saturday afternoon in a small chapel by the lake.
It was simple. Just us, a few friends, and a justice of the peace. I wore a cream-colored dress I had bought at a secondhand shop. Garrett wore a blue suit he had worn to his daughter's wedding.
He held my hands and said, "Eleanor, I've been waiting fifty-three years for this moment."
I cried.
He cried.
And we promised to love each other for the rest of our lives.
We moved into his house—a beautiful mansion overlooking the river. It was too big for two people, but Garrett insisted. He said he wanted to spend every moment with me.
His children hated it.
They came to visit, never called, and always looked at me with suspicion. His daughter, Catherine, would ask pointed questions about my intentions. His son, Mark, would stare at me like I was an intruder.
"You're not my mother," Catherine said once.
"I'm not trying to be your mother," I replied.
"You're trying to take her place."
"I'm trying to be a wife to your father. Nothing more."
Catherine didn't believe me.
She never did.
Garrett tried to stand up for me, but he was old and tired, and he didn't want to fight with his children.
"I'll talk to them," he promised.
May you like
But he never did.
And then he died.
