Chapter 3 - The Post-Wedding Brunch
The venue for the Sunday farewell brunch was a sun-drenched courtyard filled with wrought-iron tables, white hydrangeas, and the clinking of mimosa glasses. The morning heat of Charleston was already rising, but a light breeze swept off the harbor, bringing the salty scent of the ocean into the crowded space.
I wore a simple linen nursing dress, my hair pulled back into a neat bun, carrying Clara in a chest wrap while Preston pushed Theo in his stroller. To anyone looking on, we were the picture-perfect Southern family: a successful partner at a maritime law firm, his devoted wife, and their two beautiful children.
"Claire! Oh, darling, how are you feeling?" my mother-in-law, Evelyn, cried out, rushing over with her silk scarf fluttering behind her. She immediately placed a cool hand against my cheek. "Preston told us last night how utterly exhausted you were. I was so worried you wouldn't make it today!"
"I'm feeling much stronger today, Evelyn," I said, keeping my posture straight despite the dull ache in my lower abdomen. "It was just a temporary moment of fatigue."
"Well, of course it was!" Evelyn cooed, turning her attention to Preston. "You are such a saint, Preston, taking care of the kids so Claire could get her rest. Julian’s mother was saying just last night how rare it is to see a young husband so protective of his wife’s well-being."
Preston offered a modest, self-effacing laugh. "She works hard, Mom. I just do what I can to keep her from burning out."
I felt the bile rise in my throat, but I maintained my serene expression. "Yes, Preston is always looking ahead," I said, letting the double meaning hang invisibly in the air. "Where is the bride?"
"Over near the fountain with Julian and his family," Evelyn pointed out.
We walked toward the fountain. Sitting at the main table alongside the newlyweds was Victoria. She was stunning in a sleeveless pale yellow dress that showed off her bronze tan, her dark hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders. She was laughing loudly at something Julian was saying, holding a glass of grapefruit mimosa.
As we approached, her eyes swept over our group. When her gaze landed on Preston, there was a fleeting, micro-expression of shared recognition—a tiny lowering of her chin, a subtle softening of her shoulders—that only a woman watching her own husband would ever catch.
"Claire! Preston!" Meredith shouted, standing up to hug us. "Thank you so much for staying so late last night, Preston! You were a lifesaver with the AV setup when the DJ’s equipment glitched."
"Happy to help, little sister," Preston said, kissing her cheek.
Victoria stood up slowly, smoothing down her yellow dress. "Hi, Preston. Hi, Claire. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you in person. Preston told us all about how hard things have been with the new baby."
The phrasing was deliberate. How hard things have been. Not "how wonderful the new baby is," but a subtle frame that positioned my third trimester and recovery as a burden Preston had been carrying.
"It’s a demanding season," I said smoothly, stepping forward so that I was standing directly in front of her. "But Clara is an absolute angel. And Theo is such a protective big brother. Preston, darling, could you grab me a sparkling water from the bar?"
Preston hesitated, glancing between Victoria and me. "Sure. Theo, come with Daddy to get a juice box."
The moment Preston walked away with our son, I looked directly into Victoria’s dark eyes. "I noticed you were at The Mulberry Room late last night. It looked like quite a lively crowd after the main reception died down."
Victoria’s posture stiffened slightly, though her smile remained plastered on her face. "Oh... yes! A few of us went up to the lounge around eleven. The wedding party was exhausting, so we needed a nightcap."
"Must have been lovely," I said softly, leaning in just close enough that only she could hear over the fountain. "Preston mentioned he stayed down there to check on the bar bill. He was carrying quite a distinctive perfume on his collar when he finally came up to our suite at quarter to two. A sweet floral... honeysuckle, I think?"
Victoria’s throat moved as she swallowed hard. Her hand tightened around the stem of her champagne glass until her knuckles turned white. "I... I think several of the women were wearing floral scents last night, Claire. It was a summer wedding."
"Of course," I said, smiling warmly as Preston returned with my glass of water. "Weddings bring everyone so close together, don't they?"
Preston looked between us, sensing the shift in air pressure, though he couldn't pinpoint the breach. "Here’s your water, Claire."
"Thank you, my love," I said, taking a deliberate sip. "Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to take Clara to the nursing room before we pack up the car."
As I turned my back on them and walked away across the courtyard, I pulled out my phone with one hand and typed a quick message to my personal attorney in Atlanta—a woman named Sarah who had handled my late father’s estate three years ago.
May you like
“Sarah, I need a forensic accountant and a private investigator in Charleston by tomorrow morning. Do not send anything to my shared email. Use the private burner account we set up during my dad’s probate.”
The trap was officially open. Now I just had to let Preston walk into it.
