Chapter 2 - The Morning After|
The morning after our wedding was cold and crisp. Instead of waking up on a flight to a tropical beach, Preston insisted we drop by the Caldwell mansion. We needed to collect several forgotten wedding gifts and discuss a revised honeymoon itinerary that Veronica had altered without asking us.
My single suitcase stood quietly near the grand marble entrance of the estate. Inside lay my folded ivory dress, unopened congratulatory cards, and a few framed photographs from our reception. I was exhausted, but I clung to the hope that Veronica’s hostility would naturally soften now that the marriage was official.
Instead, I found her standing rigidly in the center of the spacious foyer. In her right hand, she gripped a heavy, industrial plastic spray bottle labeled PROFESSIONAL DISINFECTANT.
"You have been married for less than one day," Veronica announced, her voice echoing off the high ceilings, "and already you behave as though this house belongs to you."
I stopped in my tracks, looking down at the polished floor around my boots.
"What are you talking about, Veronica?" I asked, attempting to keep my tone calm.
"You entered through the main front door wearing those filthy shoes," she sneered, her chin raised high.
"They are completely clean," I replied, glancing down. "I wiped them thoroughly on the mat."
"They came from outside, girl. They carry dust from your ordinary world."
"So did yours," I countered gently.
Veronica’s face tightened instantly. At sixty-two, she was thin, immaculately dressed, and perpetually posed as if an invisible camera crew were documenting her life. Real diamonds circled her neck, glistening even at breakfast.
"You track your ordinary, low-class life across everything our family has built," she spat.
Preston stood a few feet away near the base of the staircase, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.
"Preston, could we please not do this today?" I asked, turning to my new husband for support.
Veronica raised the spray bottle, aiming it forward.
May you like
"Mother," Preston muttered, without even looking up from his screen. There was no real warning in his voice—only mild, lazy annoyance. "Not now."
I genuinely assumed she intended to spray the floor near my boots to make a dramatic point. I never expected what happened next.
