Melissa's Arc

Chapter 5 of 5

They drove back to the cottage in Allan's truck with the guests following behind in their own cars. Melissa sat in the passenger seat still wearing her mother's dress, watching the familiar roads pass by through the window. She'd tucked her mother's cheque into her purse that morning, planning to tell Allan about it after the ceremony. Five thousand dollars was enough to cover the business license fees and the new shelving he needed for the bakery. She'd practiced the words in her head during the drive to the clearing—casual, easy, like it was nothing. But then her father had given her the bouquet and told her she deserved better, and she'd spent the ceremony watching Allan's jaw tighten instead of thinking about money. Now the moment felt wrong. She'd wait until tonight, after everyone left. Maybe tomorrow. She reached for a leftover piece of wedding cake on the dashboard and ate it in three bites. Allan pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The guests parked along the road and started walking toward the house. Allan headed inside while Melissa lingered by the truck, greeting people as they passed. When she finally stepped through the door, she found Allan standing by the filing cabinet in the corner of the front room, holding the ornate cheque in both hands. Her purse lay open on top of the cabinet. He must have moved it there when he came in. His face was still, but she could see the question forming behind his eyes—the one she hadn't answered yet because she hadn't told him it existed. "My mother gave it to me this morning," Melissa said, and the words came out faster than she'd planned. "For whatever comes next. I was going to tell you." Allan looked at the cheque again, then at her. The silence stretched between them, but it wasn't the dangerous kind. It was the waiting kind. "We could use it for the bakery," she said. "The license, the shelves, whatever you need." He folded the cheque once, carefully, along the decorative border. Then he handed it back to her. "Your mother gave this to you," he said. "Not to the bakery. Not to me." Melissa stared at the folded paper in her palm. She'd been ready to sacrifice it the same way she'd sacrificed the necklace—another piece of herself traded for his approval. But he was giving it back. She didn't know what to do with something she was allowed to keep.