Nick lowered the microphone.
“I brought her because I was fed up. Jill kept asking me not to turn every dinner into a war, and I kept thinking I could manage you without forcing her to choose sides.”
“And you brought her here to humiliate me?”
He glanced at me.
“I was wrong.”
Martha pointed at me.
“There. That’s what she wanted. She’s finally turned you against your own mother.”
Nick moved, but I put my hand against his arm.
“I’ve got this.”
“I was wrong.”
Martha looked almost pleased.
“Go ahead, Jillian.”
For years, I’d answered her insults one by one.
Not tonight.
“You cut my hair because you couldn’t control who Nick married.”
Her mouth opened.
“Go ahead, Jillian.”
I kept going.
“You invented a competition with Lydia. You insulted my family. You lied about a ‘family tradition’ after putting scissors to me from behind. And you’ve made me look ridiculous on one of the most important days of my life.”
Caroline’s expression hardened.
“Martha, you need to leave.”
I looked at her.
“Martha, you need to leave.”
“No. I’ll say it.”
Then I faced Martha again.
“You are leaving my wedding. You’re not coming to our home, and you’re not calling Nick tomorrow expecting him to smooth this over.”
Martha stared at Nick.
“You’re allowing this?”
“No. I’ll say it.”
He answered quietly.
“Yes. I’m standing beside my wife.”
I stepped closer.
“If we ever speak again, it’ll start with you admitting what you did without blaming me, Lydia, or Nick.”
Martha looked around the room.
Caroline wouldn’t defend her.
“I’m standing beside my wife.”
Lydia wouldn’t soften it.
Nick stayed beside me.
For once, nobody rescued Martha from the consequences of her own behavior.
She picked up her purse.
Then she walked out without another word.
And nobody followed.
Lydia wouldn’t soften it.
***
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