3. The Engagement Dinner

Anne woke up in the hotel room at noon.

Her body ached. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her cheek still hurt where Donald had slapped her.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked terrible. Her hair was tangled and her eyes were red with a faint mark on her left cheek.

She splashed water on her face and tried to remember what she was supposed to do today.

Then it dawned on her that today was her engagement dinner. Her father had made her plan months ago. It would be a formal dinner to celebrate the engagement with both families before the wedding next month. Also, to reveal who she truly was to Donald because he hated the secrecy.

Anne's stomach dropped.

She had no phone. No way to cancel. No way to call Donald and tell him not to come.

Not that she wanted him there anymore.

But her father didn't know what happened. He didn't know about the slap or Hannah or any of it.

Anne sat on the edge of the bed.

She could skip it. Just not show up.

But her father would worry. He'd send people looking for her. And the Ashfords would be there. Donald's parents. The people who'd spent the past years making her feel small. The Ashfords had always treated her like a small fry who was irrelevant. Donald’s mum especially thinks Hannah was a better candidate for a wife because her father was a senator.

Anne borrowed clothes from the hotel gift shop. A simple black dress. She paid with a credit line the hotel extended after the man from last night vouched for her.

She still didn't know him but she was eternally grateful she made a promise to search for him after this whole madness passes.

She took a cab to her apartment. The doorman let her in when he saw her. She did her makeup carefully to cover the mark on her cheek. 

And she was ready for an engagement dinner for a marriage that was already failing before it even began.

*****

James Wellington was already there.

Her father stood near the entrance in his suit, looking exactly like what he was: a man who owned half the buildings in Manhattan.

When he saw Anne, his expression softened.

"There's my girl," he said.

Anne hugged him. She held on a little longer than usual.

"You okay?" James asked quietly.

"I'm fine," Anne lied.

James studied her face. He didn't believe her. But he didn't push.

"The Ashfords aren't here yet," he said. "Donald called and said they'd be a few minutes late."

Anne's chest tightened. So Donald was coming.

She didn't know if that made it better or worse.

The private dining room was beautiful. Candles on the table. Flowers everywhere. Champagne has already been poured.

Anne sat down next to her father. She watched the door nervously wondering how they would act after last night.

Would he dare bring Hannah along?

James checked his watch. "This is disrespectful." After minutes of waiting.

"Maybe there's traffic," Anne said. She didn't know why she was defending them. None of his family had even made it here yet.

James pulled out his phone. He called Donald's number. It rang and rang. No answer.

He called Gregory Ashford next. Same thing.

"This is unacceptable," James said. His voice was calm but Anne could hear the anger underneath.

The waiters stood awkwardly by the wall. The food was getting cold.

Anne felt sick.

"We're leaving," he said.

"Dad, wait…"

James's phone buzzed. He looked at the screen. 

"What is it?" Anne asked.

James handed her the phone.

It was a message from Patricia Ashford. Donald's mother.

So sorry we can't make it tonight. Family emergency. Hannah had a severe panic attack. Donald is with her at the hospital. We'll reschedule.

Anne read it twice.

Hannah.

Of course it was Hannah.

"Who's Hannah?" James asked.

"A family friend," Anne said quietly. "The girl who saved Donald's life when they were kids."

"And she had a panic attack tonight? Right now?"

Anne didn't answer.

James took his phone back. He stared at the message. Then he looked at his daughter.

"How long has this been going on?" James asked.

"Dad…"

"How long has he been putting her first?"

Anne's eyes burned. "It's not like that."

"Don't lie to me, Anne." James's voice was soft. "How long?"

Anne looked down at her hands. "Three years."

The silence was heavy.

"You've been engaged for three years," James said slowly. "And he's been doing this the entire time?"

"He loves her," Anne whispered. "In his own way. She saved his life. He feels like he owes her."

"And what does he owe you?"

Anne didn't have an answer.

James stood up. He walked to the window overlooking the city. His hands were in his pockets. His shoulders were tense.

"I knew," he said quietly. "I knew he wasn't right for you. But I let you choose. I thought maybe I was wrong. Maybe he'd prove me wrong."

"Dad…"

"I should have stopped this years ago."

Anne stood up. The room tilted slightly. She gripped the edge of the table.

"Anne?" James turned around. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Anne said. But her voice sounded far away.

The room was spinning now. The candles blurred together. The floor felt like it was moving.

"Anne!"

Her father's voice was the last thing she heard before she fainted.

When Anne woke up, she was lying on the couch in the private dining room.

Her father was kneeling next to her. A waiter was holding a glass of water.

"Don't sit up too fast," James said.

Anne blinked. Her head was pounding. "What happened?"

"You fainted."

Anne closed her eyes. Of course she did. The perfect ending to a perfect day.

"I'm calling a doctor," James said.

"I'm fine," Anne said. "I just haven't eaten."

That was partially true. She hadn't eaten since yesterday morning. James helped her sit up slowly. He handed her the water. 

"I'm taking you home," James said.

"I can go by myself…"

"You just fainted, Anne. I'm not leaving you alone."

Anne didn't argue. She didn't have the energy.

James dismissed the waiters. He left cash on the table for the trouble. Then he helped Anne to his car.

They drove in silence for a while.

Then James spoke.

"The engagement is off!"

Anne looked at him. "What?"

"You're not marrying Donald Ashford!"

"Dad, you can't just…"

"Yes, I can!" James said. His voice was firm. Final. "And I am. You deserve better than a man who doesn't show up to his own engagement dinner. You need a man who does not love someone else."

"He doesn't love her," Anne said weakly. "He just feels guilty."

"Then he's an idiot," James said. "And you're not marrying an idiot."

Anne leaned her head against the window. The city lights blurred past.

"You could do better, Anne," James said softly. "You know that, right? You're a Wellington. You're brilliant and kind and worth more than this."

Anne's throat tightened.

"I want you to come back to the company," James continued. "Use that degree you earned. Build something. Be someone. Stop making yourself small for a man who can't see what's right in front of him."

"Okay," Anne whispered.

"Okay?"

"The engagement is off," Anne said. She was too tired to fight. "You're right. It's over."

James reached over and squeezed her hand.

They didn't talk for the rest of the drive.

When they got to Anne's apartment, James walked her to the door.

"I'll call the wedding planner tomorrow," he said. "Cancel everything. You don't have to deal with it."

"Thank you," Anne said.

James hugged her. "Get some rest. And Anne?"

"Yeah?"

"You're going to be okay. Better than okay."

Anne nodded even though she didn't believe him.