I sat there alone, holding the check.
Then I pulled out my phone. I didn’t call Julian.
I called his younger sister, Rebecca. The one who’d always been kind to me. The one who’d slipped me her number at the wedding and whispered, “If my parents ever do anything awful, tell me.”
“Rebecca, I need your help,” I said.
I didn’t call Julian.
Twenty minutes later, she walked into the restaurant, sat across from me, and listened as I told her everything.
Her face went pale. Then red. “Those manipulative…” She paused. “What do you need?”
“I need Julian to see who they really are. Not me telling him. Him seeing it himself.”
She understood immediately.
***
An hour later, I called Julian and told him we’d been invited to dinner with his parents.
He sounded excited and hopeful, unaware of what the evening would bring.
“I need Julian to see who they really are.”
***
Margot and Leonard were waiting in the sunroom when I arrived. Margot stood the moment she saw me.
“Where’s Julian?”
“He had something important come up,” I answered, moving toward the table. “He’ll be here later.”
Leonard stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We assume you’re ready to do the right thing.”
“I need to understand something first,” I said. “Why do you hate me so much?”
“We assume you’re ready to do the right thing.”
Margot flinched. “We don’t hate you, darling.”
“Then what is it?”
Leonard sighed. “We pity you. There’s a difference.”
“Pity?”
“You can’t give Julian children easily. You can’t stand beside him at galas. You can’t hike with him or dance with him or live the active life he deserves.”
Margot’s voice dripped false sympathy. “You’re a wonderful person, I’m sure. But you’re not right for our son.”
“You can’t give Julian children easily.”
