He Gave Her The Best So I Left Him With Nothing Chapter 22
The wedding was simple and warm.
Zara officiated, standing in the center of the courtyard and spinning an animated story about how Aidan, back when he was first learning to be a silversmith, had accidentally sized a customer’s ring to his own pinky finger. Our friends, scattered around the yard, burst out laughing. The whole day felt easy and bright.
After Aidan and I exchanged rings and kissed, his brother Sam let out a loud whistle and clapped with everything he had. The desert wind was soft and warm against my skin.
That night, we lit a bonfire in the yard.
And at exactly the wrong moment, my phone rang. It was my father.
I stepped under the eaves to answer. The first thing I heard was my mother’s muffled, tearful sobbing.
“How could you do this to us, Sadie? How am I supposed to face anyone now? We raised you all these years — is this how you repay us? By being so ungrateful?”
Her crying was cut short by my father’s steady voice. “That’s enough. Stop.”
He cleared his throat. His tone was flat, but heavy with reproach. “Sadie, come home. No one in this family is going to let you starve. How long are you going to keep this up? Why can’t you just be sensible, like your sister?”
Like your sister.
There it was again.
I listened to his voice, but my eyes stayed on the dancing bonfire. Aidan was smiling as he handed a blanket to Zara, the warm, golden light tracing the gentle lines of his profile. As if he sensed my gaze, he turned and looked at me, his eyes full of quiet concern.
In that moment, I felt calmer than I ever had in my life.
“Dad,” I said softly, but my voice was firm. “This is who I am.”
Then I hung up without waiting for a reply.
Aidan walked over and draped another soft wool blanket over my shoulders. He didn’t ask who had called. He just took my hand, his palm warm and steady around mine.
I leaned into his shoulder and looked at the smiling faces in the firelight, and at the vast, starry sky arching over Santa Fe.
I’m doing well.
And that’s enough.
