Page 2 of Tail, Dark and Handsome: Celestial Mates
She couldn’t hold on to false hope. Tomas did what he did. There was no going back.
Maybe…this was for the best. The universe was throwing her a course correction. Or maybe Tomas sucked balls and she thanked the stars she avoided being legally tied with that hot mess dressed in an expensive suit.
Mari grabbed the rose bouquet from the floor, threw it to the floor again, then stomped on it for good measure. She hated how desperate hope made her feel. If Tomas wanted to run, she’d let him run. Better to rip that bandage off and get the worst part over, rather than waiting and hoping for him to walk in through the chapel doors. Hope felt so much worse.
“Love sucks,” she said, leaning into Joseph.
“It does, but he sucks in particular.” He picked up the tattered bouquet. “Do we want to salvage this or toss it in an incinerator?”
“Fiery destruction. No question.” She’d toss all Tomas’ clothes, including the finely tailored suits she thought looked so good on him, into the incinerator.
A knock sounded on the door. Mari’s mother peeked her head into the room. “All right, love? Any word on Tomas? What is going on with your aura?” Valerian frowned and snatched at the air around Mari’s head.
“Mom, not now—”
“Sunshower in a Marigold Field Moonquest, stay still. You can’t get married with all this negative energy.”
Oh no. Valerian used her mortifyingly embarrassing full name.
Mari turned pleading eyes to Joseph. Somehow, she had to be Sunshower Marigold, and he got to be plain oldJoseph. Not fair. He owed her and needed to save her. Normally he enjoyed watching her being chastised, but a grim expression set on his face. He hated this awful situation as much as her.
He informed Valerian of the change of plans. “Gone? This has to be a misunderstanding.” She clutched the crystal pendant that hung around her neck.
“He cleared out our apartment,” Mari said.
“But I did his star chart myself. I was sure—” Valerian trailed off and Mari didn’t know if her mother was more upset about Mari being left at the altar or her star charts being wrong.
“Yeah, well—”
Valerian removed her crystal pendant and placed it in Mari’s hand. “You need this more than me. Let it soak up all your negative energy.”
Mari’s hand curled around the crystal pendant. She didn’t believe in all the star-age philosophy—the bitter part of her whispered it was nonsense—that Valerian embraced wholeheartedly. Crystals, aura cleanses, spiritual node alignments, exercise technique to unblock a person’s life force, and star charts. Valerian happily took the most out-there beliefs from several planets and alien species, embracing each new set of metaphysical values and wisdom with enthusiasm. After all, a woman who unironically names her child Sunshower in the Marigold Field also believed in guardian spirits and past lives.
Moonquest was the family name, believe it or not. Way back when humans first left Earth to colonize the stars, some enthusiastic pioneers ditched the old Earth names for new ones. Starbuck, Moon, and Polaris were as common as Smith and Jones.
“I’ll take care of the crowd while we figure out what to do. Don’t worry,” Valerian said.
“Thanks, Mom. I don’t think this day can get worse.”
A knock sounded on the door before the chapel’s event coordinator entered. The pinched faced woman clutched her tablet. “The police are here.”
Valerian gasped, then jerked off the crystal-encrusted bracelet that dangled off her wrist. She shoved it at Mari. “Don’t tempt the universe. You have a powerful shadow over you,” she said.
“I don’t suppose the police are here for a good reason,” Mari said. Unless Tomas was abducted or someone filed a missing person’s report.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” the woman sniffed. “I placed them in the groom’s dressing room since that is not being used.” She drew the words out like she wanted Mari to squirm. Well, she got her wish because Mari squirmed and wished the wall would open up and vent her right out into space. “There’s also the matter of the bill.”
“You have the deposit,” Mari said.
“Yes, and the remainder is due today,” the woman replied.
“And you have my credit information.”
“That was, unfortunately, declined.” Her words and tone were sympathetic, but her expression radiated glee, like she called the police on Mari for freeloading.
“It must be a misunderstanding. Tomas and I set up an account just for our wedding.” She had been funneling every spare credit into the savings account, as had Tomas. Disbelieving, she dug out her communicator and logged into the shared bank account.
Empty.
