Page 73 of Targeted By Vengeance

He playfully shoved me away. “Get out of my car before I change my mind.” He grabbed the hat sitting in my lap and plopped it on my head. “And keep your head down. Isabelle’s the only one allowed to see you. Alright?”

I nodded, adjusting the cap to fit better on my head.

“Take your time. I’ll be here when you’re finished.”

Smiling, I leaned forward to give him a kiss. There weren’t enough thank yous in the world to express how grateful I was for the moment he was giving me, but I was going to find a way to make this up to him. I just didn’t know how yet.

Keeping my head low and the cap over my eyes, I strolled past the workers milling around the building. Some were putting up floral decor, others were carrying chairs and tables into the ballroom, and a few were running around with clipboards making sure everything was in its right place. No one paid any mind to me, too occupied with their tasks.

I easily made my way up the spiral steps towards the bridal suite on the third floor. The entire floor plan was practically engraved in my brain after all the times I visited with Isabelle and my mother. Both of them were obsessed with the venue, and the wedding director invited us up nearly all the time to go over plans for the decor.

A symphony of familiar voices trailed out from the suite, echoing down the hall. I recognized the high-pitched obnoxious voices of Isabelle’s bridesmaids and my mother’s tight tone.

I stopped at the door and peered around the corner to get a glimpse inside.

The women stood in a cluster around the vanity dresser, clad in their matching pale pink satin robes with their wedding party roles embroidered on the back. Isabelle sat in the chair in the middle of them with her head down. Only the white pins in her hair and her fingers digging into her temples were visible in the mirror.

None of the other women noticed Isabelle’s position, all of them chattering on about a million different things. The makeup. The dresses. The photographer. Poses for the getting ready pictures. Every little thing I bet Isabelle couldn’t care less about right now.

“Who’s going to walk down with Darren?” Chelsea mused. “The best man can’t walk down without the maid of-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Isabelle snapped, finally raising her head. Her light brown eyes were ablaze with a rage I’d never seen before. The heat behind it made her bridesmaids take a step back. “Matter of fact, get the hell out!”

The small crowd erupted in a chorus of “What?” and “Huh?” as the women held their hands to their chests.

“Give us a moment, ladies,” my mother said, offering the bridesmaids apologetic smiles.

Isabelle put her face back into her hands, ignoring the dirty glances her bridesmaids gave her as they turned on their heels and walked out.

They grumbled amongst each other as they walked past me, not even sparing a glance in my direction.

“Isabelle,” my mother sighed, laying her hands on Isabelle’s shoulders. “I know parts of today are tough for you, but you need to be kinder to your friends. They’re only trying to help.”

“Yeah, well they’re not,” Isabelle mumbled. “All they want is to take her place, and they can’t.”

“Why not? Leaving an empty space may not present well in the pictures.”

“I don’t give a damn about the pictures,” Isabelle snapped, raising her head again. “Simone’s supposed to be here! But, she’s not.” Her voice cracked on the last word, a film of moisture forming over eyes.

“I know,” my mother murmured. “I wish she were here too.” She paused, the frown almost winning the tug-of-war on her lips. She shook her head, wiping the sadness away, and masked it with the usual pursed poise. “But, she wouldn’t want you to be sad on one of the best days of your life.” Leaning down, she pecked a kiss on her head. “Take some time to yourself. We’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

She gave Isabelle’s shoulders one last squeeze before releasing her. Another sigh left her lips as she shut the door behind her. She fell back against the door, shutting her eyes tight to prevent any tears from falling.

She was close enough to touch. To pull close. To melt into an embrace one last time.

I could smell the signature florals of her favorite perfume, and for the first time since I was younger, I wanted nothing more but to bury my face into her shoulder and breathe it in.

But, Mateo’s rules were clear: the less people who knew about me, the better. And I needed to be careful about who I shared the knowledge with. Isabelle and Gabriel would keep my secret. I wasn’t sure my mother would ever let me go if she knew.

So, I had to let her continue thinking I’m already gone.

Opening her eyes, my mother straightened her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face, and walked down the hall where the bridesmaids had gone.

I waited until her footsteps out of earshot to walk inside.

Isabelle’s head rose at the soft click of the lock as I shut the door behind me. “Didn’t I say to-” She froze when our eyes caught each other in the mirror. Her eyes widened, staring at my reflection in disbelief. Moisture glazed over her eyes with every passing second. “Simone?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Is…is that you?”

“Yeah. I…I couldn’t miss your big day.’