And she told her about Jonathan’s visits, about how he would drive by just to remind her of how far she had fallen.
Marissa’s face grew harder and harder as Elena talked, her hands tightened around Elena’s. “That man,” she said, her voice shaking with anger.
“That horrible, cruel man. How dare he treat you like that after everything you did for him?”
The coffee and muffins arrived, and Marissa pushed them toward Elena. Eat, she said. Please eat.
Elena was hungry. She was always hungry. But she ate slowly, trying to maintain some dignity, even though her stomach wanted her to gobble everything down at once.
“So Marissa said after Elena had eaten two muffins and drunk half her coffee, you said on the phone that you needed my help with something important.
What is it?” Elena reached into her bag and pulled out the cream colored invitation.
She slid it across the table to Marissa. Marissa picked it up and read it.
Her eyebrows went up higher and higher with each line. “He invited you to his wedding,” she said in disbelief.
“He actually had the nerve to invite you?” “It’s not really an invitation,” Elena explained.
“It’s a trap. He wants me to come so he can humiliate me in front of all his rich friends.
He wants them to see me in my old clothes looking poor and desperate so they can compare me to his new perfect wife.
He wants to show everyone that leaving me was the right choice.” Marissa’s eyes flashed with anger.
That’s disgusting. That’s absolutely disgusting. She put the invitation down on the table. So, you’re not going, right?
You’re going to ignore this and let him have his fancy wedding without giving him the satisfaction?
Elena was quiet for a moment. Then, she looked directly into Marissa’s eyes. “No,” she said softly.
“I’m going.” Marissa blinked in surprise. “You’re what?” “I’m going to that wedding,” Elena repeated, her voice getting stronger.
