Chapter 1 On my wedding day, my bouquet was vandalized. Then a little kid ran down the aisle, pointed at my husband, and screamed, "Daddy!" I was still processing that when the child's "mother" showed up—a woman who had to be at least sixty. I just wanted to sit down and grab some popcorn. 1 "Oh, my God. Who did this?" My maid of honor, Jess, stormed over, holding my bouquet. The cuts were clean, precise. Every single rose had been decapitated. Someone had taken scissors to it. "What are we going to do? The ceremony starts in ten minutes! Who would be this horrible?" Jess was spinning in circles, scanning the bridal suite like she was going to tackle the culprit. My mom, coming in to tell me it was time, saw the floral carnage and went pale. She thought it was a bad omen. She’d never liked me and Mark being together, but I’d worn her down. "Chloe, we have to go. Everyone's waiting." Mark stuck his head in, already looking impatient. He started to pull me by the arm, not even noticing the bouquet was a massacre of stems. Seeing his anxious face, my stomach twisted. Was he hiding something? Was this the work of an ex-girlfriend? Thankfully, my other bridesmaid ran in with the emergency backup—a bouquet she’d made herself from silk flowers. It saved the day. The wedding was back on. As we lined up, my mom fixed my veil. "I just want you to be happy, baby," she whispered, her eyes already wet. I saw her tearing up in the front row, and I made a silent vow. I was going to be happy. "Chloe, do you take Mark to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Mark squeezed my hand, his eyes locked on mine, looking so sincere. I zoned out. He had to squeeze my hand again to get my attention. From the pews, our friends were already whispering, "Say 'I do!'" I thought about our life together, a fast-forward of the last four years. He was a good guy. Right? I looked at his expectant face and opened my mouth. "I... I do..." "I DON'T!" A little girl, maybe four or five, burst from the back of the church and sprinted down the aisle. "She's a bad woman! She stole my daddy! Bad woman!" She was making a beeline for us, but thankfully my brother, Leo, was the best man. He scooped her up just before she could launch herself at my dress. "Whoa, where'd this little one come from?" Leo joked, holding her. "Folks, anyone missing a tiny guest? Better claim her quick before I take her home. She's pretty cute." The guests, who had been whispering, all just looked at each other. Minutes ticked by. No one stood up. I felt the hand holding mine start to sweat. I looked at Mark. His forehead was gleaming. He looked utterly terrified. It was the first time I’d ever seen him look anything but confident. "Mark," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "Who is she?" "Chloe, baby, it's... it's not... you have to believe me. I haven't done anything to hurt you, I swear." He grabbed my arms, his voice frantic. "Daddy! Daddy, I want Daddy! Put me down!" "Ouch! Kid, you bite?" Leo yelped, setting her on the ground. She immediately scrambled over and latched onto Mark’s leg. "Daddy, why are you marrying this bad woman? Mommy will be so sad!" she wailed, then turned and stomped on my foot before glaring at me. How does a kid that small already know how to hate? "Penny, you're little, you don't understand," Mark said, trying to pry her off his leg. Chapter 2 The second he touched her, she screamed bloody murder. The entire ceremony was grinding to a halt. My parents looked mortified. "Mark," my dad said, his voice low and dangerous. "You need to explain what is going on, right now. Or this wedding is over." "Dad, Mom, Chloe... it's not what you think. She's not my kid. I can't explain it right here. Can we just go home? Please?" Mark was practically vibrating with panic. "Dude, what are you trying to pull?" my brother snapped. "You think my sister is just going to be a stepmom to your secret kid? No way in hell." My stomach dropped. I swayed, and Jess had to grab me. Mark reached for me, but Penny was still screaming and clinging to him. He was trapped, and he clearly wasn't going to tell the truth. Penny looked at me, then grinned at Mark. "Daddy, Mommy's here too! She went to get me a lollipop. We can all go home together now, okay?" Her words were like needles. I stared at Mark, turned, and started to walk. "Chloe, wait! Listen to me! It's not..." I was a runaway bride. I didn't care how sincere he sounded. It was all noise. "Mommy! What took you so long? I almost let the bad woman steal Daddy!" Penny let go of Mark and ran like a shot toward a woman in the back pew. The woman was... sixty, at least. Dressed in a flowery, ruffled dress that was way too young for her. She looked more like the kid's grandma than her mom. My brain just... stalled. My CPU was fried. A second ago, I wanted to run. Now, I just wanted to grab some popcorn. "Mom? What are you doing here?" Mom? Mark was calling her Mom? Everyone in the church had the same look of utter confusion. Mark had told me—swore to me—that his parents were dead. I looked closely at the woman. The set of her eyes... they were the same as his. He had lied to me. For four years, he’d lied. "You still have the nerve to call me Mom?" the old woman said, turning her back on him in a pout. "Getting married, such a big deal, and you don't even tell me? Do me and Penny even matter to you?" This was the gossip of the year. Chapter 3 "Chloe, let's go," my dad said, his face red. He’d only agreed to this marriage because Mark was "a good, simple guy with no family." My dad hates liars. But what happened next was even crazier. "Mom, stop making a scene!" Mark hissed, physically turning her around. "It's my wedding day. Why are you and Penny here? I told you to stay home! You need to help me explain who Penny is, or your daughter-in-law is going to walk." "Explain what? If she can't accept Penny, then she can't marry into this family." His mom shot me a look of pure disdain. "Ma'am," I cut in, my patience gone, "what century are you living in? Just tell me the truth. Whose kid is this?" "Oh, so this is the woman you picked? No manners at all. I'm his mother. You should be calling me Mom. But I'll tell you this: Penny is my son's child. If you can't handle that, you can leave." "Mommy, where's my lollipop?" Penny whined. The old woman fumbled in her purse and pulled one out, shoving it in the girl's mouth. "Wait," I said. "You say she's Mark's daughter. But she calls you Mommy. What is going on?" My head was spinning. My boyfriend of four years hadn't just lied; he was part of some bizarre, dysfunctional mess. "How dare you?" his mom shrieked. "She's a child! She gets confused! Only a sick, dirty-minded person would think something's wrong with that!" "Mark told me his mother was dead. And even if you are his mom, you haven't paid the bar tab, so I'm not calling you 'Mom.' Got a problem with that, 'ma'am'?" She lunged at me, but Mark stepped between us. "Mom, please, just go home. I'm begging you. I really want to marry Chloe." He looked like he was about to cry. She just stood there. He gave up and turned to me, dropping to one knee. "Chloe, I lied. I lied about my mom. I was scared. I was scared you'd think... she's... a lot... and you'd leave me. But the kid... I'll explain later, I swear. It's not what you think. I have never cheated on you." He looked sincere. And, to be fair, in four years, he'd never given me a reason to think he was a cheater. My dad was pulling my arm, but my mom stepped in. "Honey, just... let's get through the ceremony. You're already legally married. Don't throw it all away and be divorced before the reception." She whispered to my dad, "We'll keep a close eye. If it's bad, we'll get her out." It was that one moment of softness that sealed my fate. Chapter 4 I trusted him. I finished the wedding. After the reception, Mark had arranged for a friend to drive his mom and Penny back to their (apparently secret) apartment. But Brenda pitched a fit. She'd come all this way, she was going to stay with her son for "a few days." Later, Mark finally explained. Penny wasn't his daughter. She was his mother's. Brenda had her late in life with some man who'd left. To avoid the "shame" in her small town, she’d told everyone the baby was Mark's. He hadn't cheated. The boulder in my stomach finally dissolved. But that night, I came out of the shower, ready for my wedding night, and found Mark asleep in our bed... with Penny curled up next to him. It was a "father-daughter" picture. It made my skin crawl. I woke him up. "Mark, can you take her to the guest room?" The second he moved, the kid whimpered and clung to him. He tried again. She started to cry. I gave up. I went and slept on the couch. (Brenda was in the guest room.) "Just a few days, Chloe, I promise," he said the next morning. "I'll make it up to you." I just counted down the days. Finally, the day they were supposed to leave, I got up early, bought pastries, and was ready to drive them to the train station myself. "Mommy, I want milk!" Penny yelled, throwing a croissant on the table. I just slid a glass of milk in front of her. "Not THAT milk! I don't want it!" She started banging her fists. "That's the milk you wanted. We also have... yogurt?" I nudged Mark. He went and got it. She threw that on the floor, too. "Mom, you spoil her too much," Mark sighed. Hearing him criticize her, Penny went nuclear. She grabbed a sausage link and threw it at my head. Before I could react, she dove into Brenda's lap, hiked up her mom's shirt, and... and started... My eyes felt like they were going to pop out of my head. She was five. And her sixty-year-old mother... I grabbed Mark and pulled him out of the room. I couldn't unsee that. I told Mark he could take them to the station. But he didn't. He came back that evening with flowers. "Babe, you're a saint. These are for you." "Thanks," I said, taking them. "They're on the train?" "Well..." "What! No! I am not doing this!"
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