“I would have.”
He nodded as if the answer had struck him.
“That’s why I hid it.”
Tiffany removed the ring from her finger.
Her hand shook so badly that it took her three attempts to pull it free.
She placed it on the bar.
“I am not marrying someone who mistakes fear for love.”
Daniel stared at the ring.
“Please.”
“No.”
“Tiffany, please.”
She stepped back.
Her father reached for her elbow.
She pulled away from him too.
“Don’t touch me.”
Roland stared at his empty hand.
Tiffany turned to Margaret.
“I am sorry.”
Margaret looked at the young woman’s face. The mascara beneath her eyes had begun to run. Her white gown was still flawless from a distance, but the hem was stained with champagne and dust.
“Are you?” Margaret asked.
Tiffany nodded.
“For the slap?”
Tiffany looked down.
“For the slap. For every time I made you feel small. For believing the version of you they gave me. For letting you pay while I acted as if you owed me.”
Margaret waited.
Tiffany swallowed.
“I thought you hated me.”
“I disliked being treated as a wallet.”
“I know.”
“You called it love when you wanted more.”
