Rosewater. Honeysuckle. Old money. Face to face with the gates that led into Bellmare Estate, those are the scents that welcomed me. The iron gates groaned open, leading to a vault of memories I had tried so hard to suppress.
I stepped through the gates anyway. “Damn,” Leah, my assistant, whistled. Her baby blue eyes widened in amazement. “Damn! Some people are rich!” Rich didn’t cover it. The estate was magnificent, a dream carved into the hills. There were white stone archways framed by climbing jasmine, a beautiful courtyard that opened into a blue, shining lake. Despite the beauty, the estate had the kind of silence that pulled at my heart. Leah and I stared up at the grand glass hall that sat at the center of the venue. The sun was out, light from that majestic body filtering through the trees and glinting off the fountains. “It’s sunny and bright,” Leah noted. Her tone was sing-song. Her blouse and pants and tight bun were her biggest hindrances; she could’ve burst into song and danced along the path. “The trees are singing. Can you hear them? The air smells wonderful. Such a lovely day for a wedding!” “It is.” Lovely day for a wedding, cruel day to be brought here for this wedding. Bellmare estate had not changed in the five years since I had been here. Same old lawns. Same old chapel. Same old scent. I had seen it before. I had imagined it a hundred ways. But never like this. This was the venue we had once dreamed of, me and Zane. The one I had circled in bridal magazines. The one I had whispered about in nights while wrapped up in his arms. The one I had fantasized so much about. Ignorance is bliss, and so is amnesia. For if I could forget, I would. But right now, my memory is as clear as ever, my imagination even clearer. I see myself as a bright eyed fiancée, eyes wide open as I take in the scenery for the first time. The rays from the sun make my caramel skin glow. I’m hand in hand with my lover, dark fingers intertwined in fair ones. His eyes glint at me as he smiles. I dream of being shrouded in white silk and smiling up at him. We share a kiss near the fountain. Leah may know what happened between Zane and me five years ago, but she has no idea what Bellmare Estste really means to me. She side-eyed me. “Are you okay?” Leah asked. “Perfect,” I replied. “You sure? Your portfolio is…” I glanced down to the portfolio in my left hand. I turned it around, right side up, cleverly hiding my fingers behind it. I hoped Leah won’t notice that they were trembling. “I’m a bit nervous,” I admitted. “But it’s just a wedding.” It wasn’t just a wedding. My stomach had been in knots since the offer first came. I had planned luxury weddings before, but this one felt different. The premise was anxiety inducing. The contract had arrived anonymously. High profile wedding. No in-person meetings until after the contract was signed. No names. Just an outrageous offer (triple the pay) and one stipulation: total discretion. The contract had a stern warning: do not ask questions. The only thing I knew was this venue, which was also where I would meet with of the client to talk things over with because I needed clarity on the contract. Bellmare Estate, the same venue that I had picked five years ago for my wedding. And now, here I was. Not as a bride. Not even part of the guest list. As a wedding planner. Life must be a cruel joke. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way… “Amara, please hasten up. I can’t wait to see the inside. Or meet the client. Or the couple. This is so exciting! Leah’s voice brought me back to reality. Perhaps dreams of the pat still clung to me like cheap perfume. I was dragging my suitcase behind me like a weight I wasn’t quite fond of, walking slower than I was supposed to. My fingers were shaking. I hoped Leah didn’t notice. Thank heavens I wore flats. Couldn’t trust my legs to move. My heart was beating inside my cream blouse. I was reviewing the facts over again. Anonymous client. No negotiations. First meeting at the venue itself. I should have said no. But he paid triple the normal price upfront. And I had loads of debt to clear. We crossed through the courtyard, the click of Leah’s heels echoing across the marble. A middle-aged, salt-and-pepper haired man in a grey suit approached us. “Ms. Ibe,” he greeted stiffly. He didn’t acknowledge Leah. “I’m Mr. Wade. I manage client interests on behalf of the groom.” I extended my hand. “Pleasure to meet you.” He didn’t take it. Leah brows shot up to her hairline. “Follow me,” Mr. Wade said, already turning on his heel. “My client is waiting for you.” “The groom is here?” I was confused. “I’d assumed he wouldn’t be here for the first meeting.” “You wouldn’t want him to be part of planning his own wedding?” I narrow my eyes slightly at his arrogant tone. After all, the contract stated that neither the groom nor the bride would be around for the first meeting. When Mr. Wade was well ahead of us, Leah whispered, “He seems like the kind of person who would triple your pay and act like he’s doing you a favor.” I kept silent and I squared my shoulders. Best to avoid confrontation, but I won’t let anyone step on my toes. The double doors of the main building creaked as Mr. Wade pushed them open. And there he was. The groom. Tall, really tall, too sharply dressed for someone who once loved to dance barefoot in my kitchen. A charcoal suit clung to his body. His posture was stiff. He was examining the floral samples laid out on the table, so his back was to me. The sunlight cut across his silhouette. I knew that silhouette, hell, I knew him. He didn’t even have to turn for me to know it was him. I felt the world tilt beneath my feet.“Amara,” Zane said, looking me in the eye, “I care about you.” I tamed down the buzz that started zipping through my veins. “You don’t. It’s your hero complex speaking.” He shook his head. “I don’t know why, but when I look at you, I don’t feel like I’m lying when I say I care.” I backed away. “Don’t do this.” “Amara—” “No!” My fists curled. “Don’t say my name like that. Like it still means something to you.” “It does.” I was shaking now. Whether from the cold or the fury, I couldn’t tell. “This is the worst kind of punishment. You think being near you, watching you with her, isn't already killing me? Now you want to play protector, to make it worse? You’ve had a thousand opportunities to step in, Zane. Just when I want to resign? What kind of freak control show is this? Do you enjoy hurting me?” Slowly, he stepped forward. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” “You are hurting me!” I shouted. “Every single day I’m here. Every moment you look at me like you don’t remember, and then l
I sat alone on the far end of the banquet wing’s service hallway, my back pressed against the cold wall, knees drawn to my chest. My badge hung limp from my neck. The whispers now had teeth. Every eye that caught mine was filled with suspicion. Someone said I was trying to “climb” Zane by stealing. Another claimed she always “knew something was off” about me. Leah had tried to comfort me, but even she looked shaken. “You should go home, dear,” she’d said gently, placing a soft hand on my shoulder. I had only shaken my head. “If I leave now, it’ll look like I’m guilty.” I finally decided that it’s best I leave on my own terms after writing the resignation letter. Now, if only I could muster up the strength to write it. I heard footsteps, steady and confident, approaching from the elevator. I didn’t bother lifting my head. “Amara Ibe?” a deep male voice said. I looked up to see a suited hotel concierge holding out a sealed envelope. “This was dropped off at the front desk for ‘E
There are whispers now. Not the kind that float softly through the air like background noise. These whispers cling like smoke; thick and suffocating. They pause when I enter a room, then resume when I turn my back. The first time I heard the whispers, I was in the vendor hallway at the Riverglass Pavilion. Two florists, one from Tuscany and the other from London, stood by the espresso cart murmuring between sips. “Did you hear about the planner? Something about a missing bracelet… Sera’s, I think.” “Zane’s fiancée?” the other asked, eyes wide, excitement disguised as concern. “Apparently she didn’t press charges. Must be out of pity.” They stopped talking the moment they noticed me. I gave them a stiff nod, my cheeks burning. But the look in their eyes said it all. My whole personality as a decorated planner had gone down the drain.. all they saw me as was the woman who might’ve stolen something from a billionaire’s bride. I walked past them with my head high, but inside, my che
Zane had been silent through it all. And then he coughed. “Amara,” Zane said. “There seems to be another confusion about the bridesmaid fabric.” “I have the approved sample in my file,” I said evenly, handing it over. “The decorator received it a week ago.” Sera snatched it, lips pursing. “This isn’t blush taupe. This is mauve. Mauve is a funeral color.” “It’s the exact swatch you signed off on. You wrote the initials yourself.” “I did not.” Sera turned to Zane. “I think she’s deliberately undermining things. There have been too many mistakes lately.” “Sera, I’m too busy to play cat and mouse with you. I frankly don’t care about your wedding. I want to do my job and get paid.” Sera‘s nostrils flared. She was angry; I could tell. She was like a kettle soon to boil over. She turned to her fiancé. “Zane? What do you have to say about this?” We both turned to him. Sera narrowed her eyes at him, silently daring him to take my side. I lowered my expectations to the barest minimum. Of
I stood beside the massive arched window in the bridal showroom, clipboard pressed to my chest, my jaw aching from clenching. Outside, deliveries came and went like clockwork. Inside, chaos was brewing hot. “Does anyone know why the cake vendor didn’t arrive?” Sera’s voice echoed in the room. “I was under the impression today was the tasting. Wasn’t it, Amara?” I turned, spine straight, and offered a placid smile. “There was a scheduling shift. They’re due in tomorrow. I sent a revised itinerary yesterday morning.” “Oh.” Sera blinked dramatically, glancing around as if performing for invisible cameras. “I must’ve missed that… or maybe it didn’t come through. It’s hard to keep track with all the confusion lately.” “I'll forward it again.” I caught the brief look exchanged between the florist and Sera’s stylist. Thy didn’t have to speak to show that they had new opinions about me, and not positive ones. The seed was already planted. Another note in the growing chorus of whispers ab
The next morning, I woke early, bloodshot eyes and a heart heavy as stone. The days to come seemed daunting, but I had hardened my mind. Get through this wedding… and get it over with. Leah was already buzzing around with my tablet and schedule, trying to drag me into professionalism, but I barely heard her. Another venue inspection loomed ahead, and Zane had insisted I be there in person. Something about “vision synergy.” When I got the email, I’d almost thrown the tablet across the room. But I went. Because that’s what professionals do. And also because he was my employer. I had to go. Bellmare Estate was a breathtaking cliffside estate, marble and glass, bathed in late-morning light. The kind of place you’d dream of marrying someone you loved. It was eerie. I remember the strange feeling I got when I heard that the couple I was working for chose Bellmare. That was the venue of choice for me and Zane five years ago. Now that I think about it… why did Zane chose Bellmare when he di