Boston Mother Cancels Twenty Two Million Dollar Wedding Gift After Morning Betrayal
Michael caught me near the glass doors of the lobby, out of sight of the other guests. He looked tired, his bow tie undone and hanging loose around his collar.
“Mother, wait,” he said, reaching into the breast pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a thick blue envelope and held it out to me. “Victoria wanted me to give you this,” he said, his fast, apologetic tone returning. “It is a personal note from her.”
I looked at the blue paper, recognizing the heavy linen texture immediately.
“Why didn’t she give it to me herself?” I asked.
“She is upset about the money, Mother,” Michael said, running his hand through his hair. “But she wants to make things right. Please just read it.”
I took the envelope, its weight cold in my hand, and slid it into my leather purse.
“Go back to your wife, Michael,” I said.
I turned toward the glass doors where my driver was waiting, my fingers tightening around the strap of my purse.
Beatrice walking out of the reception early with the blue envelope in her purse.
