The missing money wasn’t what scared me most.
“Try stopping me.”
Celeste had handled his schools, his car, his accounts, our mortgage – and now our wedding. Every time she reached for another piece of his life, Jeremiah let her.
I’d spent five years thinking Celeste was the problem.
Now I understood his refusal to stop her was part of it too.
My phone buzzed.
Celeste.
I had chosen the guest.
She wanted to put me in my place.
I typed back one word.
Me: ‘Fine.’
I looked at Eleanor. “Will you come with me?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Try stopping me.”
Friday night was going to be interesting.
“It was none of your business.”
Friday night, the trust numbers were still burning in my head as I walked into the restaurant.
Celeste had chosen the place. I had chosen the guest.
Celeste was sitting across from Jeremiah, mid-sentence, when Eleanor stepped through the door behind me.
Jeremiah’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.
“Don’t confuse your curiosity with authority.”
“Grandma?” he whispered.
I pulled out the empty chair beside him. “Before anyone says anything else, Celeste, I want you to answer one question.”
Her eyes snapped to mine.
“Why did you tell Jeremiah his grandmother was dead?”
Celeste’s mouth tightened. “Because it was none of your business.”
“She told me you were dead.”
“She made it my business when she showed me the letters you hid.”
Celeste gave me a cold, dismissive look. “You have always been remarkably presumptuous for someone who has been in this family for such a short time. Don’t confuse your curiosity with authority.”
Eleanor looked at him for a long moment. “I sent a card every year. I thought you threw them away.”
Celeste’s face drained of color.
She kept accusing me of controlling him.
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“She told me you were dead,” Jeremiah said.
“And she told me you wanted nothing to do with me,” Eleanor answered. “For fifteen years.”
I looked at Celeste. “Did you tell Eleanor that?”
“You don’t know what she put me through.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Jeremiah turned to her. “Did you send the letters back?”
“Ask about the trust.”
Celeste looked away. “Yes.”
“And told me she was dead.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?” I asked.
Celeste glared at Eleanor. “She kept accusing me of controlling him. She threatened to involve a lawyer over the trust.”
“Everything I did was for you.”
“Because you were treating his money like yours,” Eleanor said.
“I was raising my son!”
“So you made sure he’d never hear her side,” I said. “If he thought she was dead, he’d never look for her. Or ask about the trust.”
Celeste’s eyes hardened. “She would have made him question every decision I made for him.”
“I used that money for this family.”
Jeremiah stared at her. “Maybe I should have.”
The look on his face made me think something had finally clicked.
Then Celeste’s eyes filled with tears. “I made mistakes. But everything I did was for you.”
Jeremiah’s anger faltered.
I opened the folder and pushed the trust records toward him. “Then you should see what else she did.”
I was wrong.
He scanned the first two pages. “Mom.”
Celeste straightened. “I used that money for this family.”
“It was mine.”
“And who paid your tuition? Your car? Your apartment?”
“With my money.”
Celeste flinched.
“What do you want from me?”
Eleanor pushed the records toward her. “My lawyer will handle that.” Then she looked at Jeremiah. “But the rest is something you need to decide for yourself.”
For one second, I thought he finally would. But once again, I was wrong.
He rubbed both hands over his face. “Okay. Everybody just needs to stop. Mom lied. She shouldn’t have taken the money. But we’re not destroying her life over this.”
His answer hit me harder than I expected. “I never asked you to cut her off.”
“I’m walking away.”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“For once? A boundary.”
He looked away. And there it was.
I had asked for the same thing in a hundred smaller ways for five years.
I slid the ring off my finger and set it on the statements. “I’m done, Jeremiah.”
“So I won’t be needing it anymore.”
His head snapped up. “You’re really walking away because of my mother?”
“I’m walking away because you’ve spent five years letting her come between us.”
“I never asked you to choose between us.”
“You never had to. You made your choice every time you refused to stand up to her.”
Once, I would have kept explaining until he understood.
Not this time.
I chose myself.
Then I took out my phone. “So I won’t be needing it anymore.”
I looked at Eleanor. “Thank you for restoring the venue. But we won’t need it anymore. There isn’t going to be a wedding.”
She nodded once, her eyes wet.
For the first time in five years, I didn’t wait for Jeremiah to choose me.
I chose myself and drove home.
