Page 97 of The Facilitator: Part 2
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With a little lying and manipulation,and a lot of money exchanging hands, the fact we hadn’t been in South Carolina for the required amount of days before we could apply for a marriage licence was overlooked. I didn’t care even if the ceremony wasn’t legal, we could do it all again when we gothome.
I’d allowed Vivienne the task of organising the event, providing she stuck to my terms. It was three days of mild protesting, near on rows, but we got there, we compromised…I gave in, and I loved everything she arranged forme.
I walked myself down theaisle, a path in the sand lined with candles and Gabriella followed behind. Alex stood beside Mackenzie, both in white shirts and grey trousers, and Mack wore board shorts with a shirt and bow tie. A chef was busy preparing a barbeque, a table held champagne. A fire-pit had been dug and burning wood crackledsoftly.
In the moonlight, on a beach, barefoot but in a beautiful white silk dress Vivienne had worn to her debutant ball many, many years before, I married MackenzieMiller.
When that was done, we drank and ate, and we danced in the sand to a local musician, who sat on a stool with just his guitar. I could not have wished for a better wedding, until theend.
Vivienne was preparing to leave; Mack was going to drive her home and then return. The party wasn’t quite over. As I hugged Vivienne, I looked over her shoulder. Addison stood at the edge of the beach, having clearly decided it was perfectly okay to walk around the house and through the garden. I placed my hand on Mackenzie’s chest, as he was about to take a step towardsher.
“This one is mine,” I said, without looking athim.
“Why are you here?” I heard Viviennesay.
“I just wanted to see them actually get married. You know this is probably not legal?” shesaid.
The person who stood in front of me was a far cry from the one I’d met in London. She was bitter, the poison flowing through her had tainted her skin, and she lookedsallow.
“Addison, I feel so sorry for you. The acid from the bitterness that consumes you must need a shitload of medication. In fact, that’s probably why your pupils look like piss holes, why your skin is so awful, your lips cracked and scabby. Drugs, is it? You can only gain any relief from your twisted life if you’re stoned, can’tyou?”
She didn’t respond, but I saw her completely deflate in front ofme.
“I loved him,” she saidquietly.
“Which one, Addison? Mackenzie, Daniel, Jerry, another family member?” I wasn’t letting her off that easily. “Whichever one it was, he lucked out with yournastiness.”
I doubted she had any idea what I was saying to her. I was full on Londonmode.
“How did it make you feel to post that photograph of me?” Iasked.
She raised her head in mock defiance, but her body gave her away. She wrung herhands.
“I thought it was a stunning image, didn’t you?” I turned toVivienne.
“Absolutely. Oh, to be young again,” Viviennereplied.
Mackenzie walked beside me. Again, I placed my hand on his arm. I could feel the tension in hisbody.
Addison cracked. Just one tear ran down her cheek. I stepped towards her and she took a half step back, not sure what my intention was. I reached out and I wrapped my arms aroundher.
“You need help, Addison. Let us help you. You’ve spent most of your life sad, and I don’t believe it started with Mackenzie. It started way before that, right? It started with your mother leaving, didn’t it?” I questioned. She didn’t answer; she didn’t need to. “All you’ve ever had is your father’s unhealthy drive to prove himself, andneglect.”
She looked over at Gabriella. “I wanted what she had, so I took it,” shewhispered.
“Jealousy? Everything you’ve done is from jealousy of me?” Gabriella asked, softly butfirm.
“Jealousy of a loved daughter,” she added. Addison then cracked further. I stepped back, letting go ofher.
“Do you understand that everything you’ve done has only made everyone else stronger? The only person hurting is you, Addison, and that’s never going to stop until you make it. Only you can stop the pain in your heart,” Isaid.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, she held out her hand. She opened her fist and I took a small black flash drive. “I’m sorry about your car, the…the photos. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about theperfume.”
“The perfume?” Mackenzieasked.
“I just wanted you to remember me,” shewhispered.
