Page 172 of Mafia and Gold Digger

She waves a dismissive hand in the air and gives one of her nasal laughs. “Oh, that was just a joke.”

“A joke? It was supposed to be my wedding day, Ria. And as per usual, you chose to try and humiliate me.”

Her eyebrows shoot up before she looks down her nose at me. “I don’t think I like your attitude, Emerald.”

“You don’t like my attitude? Well, let me tell you, I haven’t liked your attitudefor years. You bullied me at school and then continued with your nastiness afterward as well, using any opportunity to get a dig or insult in. What is actually wrong with you, Ria?”

“I, um, just thought…maybe we could start afresh,” she mutters in a weak voice.

“Because suddenly you’ve decided I’mgood enoughto be seen around? Because you want to be invited to my events? Because you want to be welcome at my boutique? Ineverdid anything to you, Ria, and yet you continued to target me. I don’t know if it was down to jealousy, being insecure about yourself, or something else, but I do know that you give off a bad energy. And I don’t want someone as toxic as you anywhere near me, my family, or this boutique.”

“Toxic?” Her voice comes out as a splutter. And a tide of crimson rushes up her cheeks as she realizes that people are staring now.

But I just don’t care and carry on. “Yes, toxic. I can’t believe you have the nerve to turn up here and pretend like you never did anything to me.” I cross my arms in front of me. “You need to leave. Right now. And from now on, don’t come anywhere near me or my family.”

Ria looks like she wants the ground to swallow her up as she spins on her heel and stumbles out of the boutique. She looks completely embarrassed, but I had to stand up for myself. I had to let her know that her treatment of me isn’t in any way okay or acceptable.And I’m proud of myself for finally doing it.

The party carries on, and I’m so happy tonight. And I can’t believe the place I’m in now compared to just a few months ago. Even things with my mom have been getting better. Although rehab is a long and difficult journey, we’ve agreed she should have some supervised visits with the kids when she completes her latest stint. She’s determined to do better, and I want to be there to help her.

My family and friends gather around, their excitement infectious. A non-alcoholic version of champagne is passed into my hands, and I take a sip, the bubbles tickling my throat. Laughter and chatter fill the boutique, and for the first time, I let the reality sink in.This is mine. This is real.

A sense of purpose and gratitude washes over me. And I make an instant decision that thirty percent of all the boutique’s profits are going to be donated to the single moms’ shelter every single month. I’ve received some good fortune in my life, and I’m determined to share it with as many people as I can.

I look at Saint, my heart swelling beyond measure. “I love you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion.

His eyes soften, and he cups my face gently. “I love you too, Em.”

And as the night unfolds, I find myself floating between conversations, hugs, and joyful tears. My hands trail over the dresses, my mind already brimming with ideas. I can already see the future laid out before me, and I know that I’m going to be spending it surrounded by the people I love and who love me back.

CHAPTERFIFTY

EMERALD

Saint has persuaded me to return to the Shoplifters Anonymous group, although I didn’t take much convincing. I was ashamed of the onesie incident and then being arrested, so I missed a few meetings recently, but it’s something I’ve been wanting to go back to.

I’m keen to return. Because I realize that this isn’t something I can overcome by myself or that’ll be a quick fix. Saint was right when he said I need the support of other people going through the same thing.

I’m also still doing my bookkeeping course. Even with the baby coming, I’m determined to keep on with it and get some qualifications in case something happens to the boutique one day. I need to have a proper fallback in life instead of just relying on a closetful of stolen dresses.

I know I’ll have the income from the boutique now, plus Saint says he’s wealthy enough that I’ll never have to work, but I’m making sure that I’ve got a backup plan. The thought of having useful skills is making me worry less about running out of money, and hopefully, that will all help in my quest to stop stealing.

This evening, I’m back sitting in the circle with Amanda and the others. I keep the chessboard keychain gripped tightly in my fist, liking the reassuring feel of it as I listen. People are going around and telling their stories, and eventually, Amanda turns to Saint for his turn.

“Saint, do you feel ready to share your story with us today?”

“I, um…” His reply comes out in a stutter.

I’ve decided that if I’m going to come to these meetings, he’s coming with me—because he definitely has more than a few issues. I dig a sharp elbow into his ribs.

“Okay, okay,” he growls under his breath at me. “So, my name’s Saint, and…I, er, sometimes, steal, um, cereal...”

“Who do you steal them from?” Amanda asks, her brow slightly furrowed in confusion.

“From children,” I reply when he doesn’t say anything, leading to a shocked murmur rippling around the entire circle.

A deafening silence engulfs the room.

A woman slides her purse closer to her body and grabs onto it with a death grip.

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