The Bride Wore My Nightmares Chapter 11
Vanessa came to our house more and more often, playing the ingratiating little dear with my parents.
Not a single misstep in courtesy, not one thing anyone could pick apart.
I just watched, eyes cold.
Meanwhile, every single time she came, I took over playing hostess — making sure to fetch her a nice full glass of toilet water straight from the bathroom. I was sure she’d love it.
“Vanessa, I made this for you specifically.” Ethan piled food into her bowl attentively.
“Mom, I was thinking of going back to my old high school in a couple of days,” I said casually.
That caught Vanessa’s attention. She lifted her eyes and glanced at me.
“Why would you suddenly want to go back to high school?” Mom asked, puzzled.
I deliberately turned to make eye contact with Vanessa. “A few of the old teachers haven’t retired yet. I want to visit them.”
Vanessa dropped her gaze guiltily.
I smiled and extended the invitation. “Want to come with me? We were classmates, after all.”
Her face went awkward at once. She apologized. “I really can’t spare the time these next few days. I’ll pass, if that’s all right.”
“Oh.” I speared a piece of pasta on my plate. “I just thought, now that we’ve cleared up all the misunderstandings, we could go back and reminisce about the old high school days. If you don’t want to, though, that’s fine.”
“Maddie…” Ethan tried to speak up on Vanessa’s behalf, but I cut him off.
“You’re right. What friends did I ever have in high school? It would be great if I could round up those old classmates too — we could all go tour the classrooms, the cafeteria, the gym locker room, and don’t forget the bathroom. Right?”
I winked at Vanessa.
Her mouth opened as if to say something, but I stood up right then and said I was going to my room.
Once I left, Mom and Dad had no appetite either. Only Ethan and Vanessa were left at the table.
Even Ethan felt uncomfortable at my mention of high school. Rare as it was, he actually spoke up first and told Vanessa she should head home.
Vanessa clearly didn’t have the heart to keep sitting there, and she nodded and left.
That evening, Ethan knocked on my door, clearly settling in for a long talk.
“Sit,” I said, kicking a stool toward him.
I had expected him to try to comfort me. Instead, after only a few sentences, he veered right onto the topic of the proposal.
“Maddie, what do girls generally like in a proposal?”
I was speechless for a moment — he had the audacity to ask me for suggestions on this?
Fine. Okay.
I swallowed the bullshit rising to my lips and sniffled, then started dispensing very “thoughtful” advice:
“You’ll want to set up a big screen, ideally, and play a montage of every sweet photo, every romantic little video from when you first met until now. Everyone — family, friends — should get to see.”
“And rent the biggest sound system you can. The louder and grander the better!”
“Don’t waste money on the flowers or the carpet. Just grab the cheapest ones off Temu. It’s all one-and-done stuff anyway.”
“Mm-hmm.” Ethan nodded along, dutifully typing every one of the ridiculous things I made up into the notes on his phone.
I could barely look at him.