My mother let out a soft, irritated laugh. “You’ve been saying that for weeks. How long do you think you can keep this from her?”

Weeks. Okay… okay… okay…

“I just need a little more time,” Daniel said. “Everything’s almost ready.”

“You think she’s going to thank you for all this sneaking around?” my mother shot back.

“I’m not sneaking,” he said, sharper now. “I’m trying to do this right.”

“Oh, please,” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Men always say that right before everything falls apart.”

I closed my eyes for a second.

“Listen to me,” she continued. “You don’t owe her this much. Not after everything. You’ve done enough already.”

Enough? For me?

“She deserves the truth,” my mother added. “And if you don’t tell her, I will. This concerns me too.”

Of course it does.

“Okay…” I whispered. “Okay. That’s enough.”

I smoothed my hands over my dress, an old habit.

Then I stepped forward.

“Well, this sounds like a conversation I should’ve been invited to.”