Chapter 4: The Walk to the Guillotine<\/p>\n
The botanical gardens were breathtaking. Golden afternoon sunlight filtered through the canopy of ancient oak trees, illuminating thousands of blush-colored roses that cascaded down the aisles. A string quartet played a hauntingly beautiful rendition of my favorite classical piece. To the two hundred guests sitting in the perfectly arranged white wooden chairs, it was the picture of a fairytale ending.<\/p>\n
To me, it looked like a beautifully decorated crime scene.<\/p>\n
I stood at the top of the aisle, my arm looped through Ben\u2019s. My twelve-year-old son looked incredibly handsome in his tiny tuxedo. He looked up at me, his eyes full of innocent excitement.<\/p>\n
\u201cReady, Mom?\u201d he asked softly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMore ready than I have ever been, sweetheart,\u201d I replied, squeezing his arm.<\/p>\n
The music swelled. We began our descent.<\/p>\n
Every step felt heavy, yet simultaneously weightless. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead. I saw Nathan standing at the altar. He was wearing a custom Tom Ford tuxedo, his hair perfectly coiffed. When he saw me, he brought a hand to his mouth, playing the part of the fiercely loyal, emotionally overcome groom to absolute perfection. I saw a fake tear glisten on his cheek.<\/p>\n
My gaze shifted slightly to the first row. Linda was seated proudly, wearing a champagne-colored dress that looked suspiciously like a bridal gown. As I locked eyes with her, a smug, victorious little grin spread across her heavily botoxed face. She looked at me not as a daughter-in-law, but as a slaughtered pig on a spit.<\/p>\n
And there, in the third row, sat Jessica. She looked bored, tapping her manicured acrylic nails against her phone, probably calculating how long it would take to spend my sister\u2019s money.<\/p>\n
Did they really assume they had already won this game?<\/p>\n
I reached the altar. Ben kissed my cheek and went to sit with the twins. Nathan reached out and took my hands. His palms were warm. A week ago, that warmth would have made me feel safe. Now, it made my skin crawl.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou look breathtaking,\u201d he whispered.<\/p>\n
\u201cSo do you,\u201d I replied, my voice steady.<\/p>\n
The officiant stepped forward to the microphone. But it wasn\u2019t the sweet, elderly pastor we had hired. It was Marcus. My lawyer had gotten ordained online the night before for fifty bucks. He wore a traditional black robe, but beneath it, I knew he was wearing a shark-skin suit.<\/p>\n
Marcus cleared his throat. \u201cFamily and friends, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Nathan and Sharon. But before we get to the traditional vows, the groom has requested a special moment. A moment to solidify not just a marriage, but a family.\u201d<\/p>\n
A collective \u201caww\u201d rippled through the unsuspecting crowd.<\/p>\n
Marcus reached beneath the podium and pulled out the thick leather binder containing the papers. He set them on the altar between Nathan and me.<\/p>\n
\u201cNathan has prepared documents to legally adopt Sharon\u2019s children, taking them on as his own,\u201d Marcus announced, his voice booming over the speakers.<\/p>\n
Nathan smiled, looking out at the crowd with manufactured humility. He reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a sleek silver Montblanc pen, and clicked it. He handed it to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cFor our family, babe,\u201d he whispered, pushing the binder toward me. \u201cJust sign on the sticky note.\u201d<\/p>\n
I took the pen. The metal was cold against my fingertips. I looked down at the document. Page eleven. The power of attorney.<\/p>\n
The entire venue was dead silent. Two hundred people were holding their breath, waiting for the beautiful, tear-jerking moment. Linda was leaning forward in her seat, practically salivating.<\/p>\n
I hovered the tip of the pen a millimeter above the signature line. I looked at Nathan. His eyes were wide with anticipation, greedy and bottomless.<\/p>\n
I let the pen slip from my fingers. It hit the wooden altar with a sharp, echoing clack, rolling off the edge and tumbling into the grass.
\n<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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