Chapter 5: Ghosts With Perfect Hair

There was a particular way people looked it me. Weird, strange, pitiful. I wasn’t just imagining it. The receptionist had glanced strangely at me when I signed in. The catering manager looked at me with pity. Even the wedding venue’s florist hesitated for a few seconds before offering her hand.

They all knew.

Word spreads, and it spreads fast. I think I perhaps may have underestimated the power of the past and of memories. Every media savvy person would know about me and Zane’s failed relationship, and gossip spreads like a wildfire. Curiosity was etched in their gazes, and I knew they were looking out for any sign to show that I was crumbling. Former bride-to-be turned wedding planner.

I held my head up high.

With my clipboard pressed tightly to my chest, I walked along the side of the grand reception tent. There was yet another type of rumor, the one about Zane Blackwood’s amnesia. There were whispers about the car accident, a brief coma, selective memory loss. It wasn’t anything concrete, but it was enough to create a narrative and to give an excuse as to why the groom couldn’t recall the woman who had once torn his heart in pieces.

Me.

“Why are you sulking?” Leah’s voice popped up beside me. She held out a coffee with one hand. “Doesn’t look ‘professional'.”

I took the coffee but didn’t drink. “Do you think the rumors are true? What they are saying about Mr. Blackwood?”

“That he is too good-looking to be real?”

I gave her a look. “That he lost his memory.”

“You really need to start believing me when I tell you stuff.”

“It’s not like I don’t trust you. It’s just hard to believe. This isn’t fiction, Leah. It’s real life. You can’t forget someone that easily. Especially not one who had such a massive impact on your life.”

Leah took a sip of coffee. “A staffer told me that Mr. Blackwood had temporary memory loss.”

“Temporary?”

“More like selective.” She shrugged. “He forgot some people and details. Important stuff. Like the date and places and stuff. He asked his mother the date, twice. He forgot details about his past also. But he's doing better lately. You won’t know something is worse unless you know what to look for.”

“Maybe he’s regained his memory and he is faking it.”

“Or maybe he just doesn’t remember. Why is it so hard for you to believe?”

My stomach turned. What I saw in his eyes yesterday, was it confusing? Not arrogance or cruelty, but confusion?

“He looked me in the face and acted like I was nobody.”

“Because to him, right now you are. Besides it’s been five years. You’ve changed.”

“Not that much.”

Leah arched a brow. “Hair, short and blonde. Hips, wider. Way wider. Aura, giving Vogue. Yeah, you’ve changed.”

I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment.

“I just-"

Before I could complete my statement, Mr. Wade approached us. He gave us both stiff nods. “Ms. Ibe, Ms. Walter. Mr. Blackwood would like to review the updated vendor schedule.”

Leah straightened her posture. “Of course.”

Wade hesitated and cleared his throat. “He may not recall all previous meetings.”

I cocked my head. “Pardon?

He cleared his throat again. “He is recovering. Please be patient if he seems… unfamiliar.”

Leah gave me a look and mouthed, I told you so.

We followed Mr. Wade through the venue gardens until we reached the lounge behind the main hall. The doors opened to reveal Zane in a tailored black suit. He was sat on a leather armchair.

He looked up at me. Then smiled faintly. “Ah. Miss…?”

A dagger cloaked in velvet aimed straight at my heart. “Ms. Ibe.”

He extended his hand. “A pleasure to meet you yet again, Ms. Ibe. I’ve reviewed some of your past work. I understand why Sera had to hire you. I’m told you’re the best in the city.”

“Just trying to keep your big day from being a big disaster.” It sounded like a joke. It wasn’t.

Zane chuckled. “Then we are on the right front.”

We started reviewing the timeline and seating chart. His eyes glanced over the chart like he had no idea that I used to fall asleep on his bed reciting names from that very list.

An older staff member walked in, dressed in white and black uniform. I knew her. Mrs. Morgan. She was the Blackwood’s family’s longtime cook.

“Sir,” Mrs. Morgan said warmly. “We need your signature on the delivery slip for the wine from you grandfather’s vineyard.”

Zane knotted his brows together. “Grandfather’s vineyard?”

“Yes.” She paused. “The on in Nepa that you inherited?”

Zane frowned. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember that detail.”

Mrs. Morgan looked worried. “Of course. Never mind. I’ll have Wade handle it.”

Zane gave a nod then turned back to me. “Shall we continue?”

I was stuck frozen for a while. So he really lost his memory, huh?

I moved to the chair across from him and placed the folder between us. “I brought the revised floral design plans. And the adjustment to the guest list just as you requested. We are still waiting on confirmation from three international guests, but the rest are settled.”

“Good. I have to say, I’m impressed. I expected someone less competent, considering…” he shook his head. “Never mind.”

Considering what? I wanted to ask. Instead, I smiled tightly. “You offered triple my rate, Mr. Blackwood. I assumed you wanted the best.”

He smiled too. It was tighter than mine. “Of course.”

The air was thick between us. He stared at me, while I tried to focus on the papers. My thoughts were a tangled mess. How could he not remember? Five years ago, he knew me better than anyone. And now, nothing?

I swallowed. “Will your fiancée be joining us?”

“No. Her schedule is packed this week. But she trusts me to make decisions.”

Funny. Trust. “I’d prefer it if she was present for the color palette selection. Most brides-"

“Sera is not most brides,” Zane said, an air of finality in his voice.

I was confused. Why was he so dismissive? There was something strange about this wedding. The bride was conveniently absent and the groom didn’t seem to care. I opened my mouth.

Zane spoke first. “Tell me, Ms. Ibe. Do you enjoy this line of work?”

It caught me off guard. “Yes. Yes I do.”

“Even weddings like this?”

“I don’t discriminate. Every couple has a story, some messier than others.”

Zane tilted his head. “And you prefer the messy ones?”

“They are usually the most honest,” I replied before I could stop myself.

Zane gave a tiny nod. His eyes were still on me. “Is that why you vanished for five years?”

My breath hitched. I could hear a pin drop. “What?”

He smiled slowly and leaned forward. “Nothing. Word goes around. You just don’t seem-"

The door opened, cutting him shut. And time stopped even more.

I thought I had seen it all. What could be worse than meeting your ex-fiancé in the most strangest, difficult of circumstances. But this? Finally seeing the person who Zane was engaged to? It was a whole other level of what the hell?!

Zane’s fiancée walked in with shiny black pumps and an auburn bob and… oh my God. It all made sense.

“It’s you,” I said, barely loud enough for others to hear.

Yet she heard me. And she grinned.