Chapter 7: What Carol Should Have Said Years Ago
Carol sat with her coat still on and her handbag in her lap, and she looked at Matt the way people look at someone they owe a debt to and haven't paid.
"I was at the house," she said.
"The week after your parents' funeral.
Selena didn't know I was in the kitchen — she thought I'd left.
And I heard her talking to Gerald."
Gerald.
Ryan's father.
The man who had suggested another person walk beside Matt so it looked less awkward.
"What did she say?" Matt asked.
"She said—" Carol stopped.
Pressed her lips together.
"She said it was a shame, the situation with you two.
She said she hoped Ryan wouldn't feel obligated to take on your problems.
Those were her words.
Your problems."
The curtain was very still.
"I should have said something then," Carol continued.
"I told myself it was grief talking, or nerves, or that she'd come around.
I made excuses for her for years." She looked at me.
"I watched her at that dinner when you announced the engagement.
I watched her face when you said Matt would walk you down the aisle.
And I thought — this is the same woman.
She hasn't changed at all."
"That's why you filmed it," Ryan said.
"I had my phone out before he even started the toast.
I knew she'd do something.
I just didn't know it would be that—" She shook her head.
"That brazen.
With two hundred people in the room."
Matt hadn't said anything.
He was looking at the middle distance, the way he did when he was deciding something.
"She told Gerald the scholarship was a waste," Carol said.
"That you'd never have made anything of it anyway.
That some people aren't built for that kind of life."
I felt Ryan go still beside me.
"She said that?" I asked.
"Word for word.
I've carried it for eleven years." Carol's voice was steady but her hands weren't.
"I am so sorry, Matthew.
I am so sorry I didn't say something sooner."
Matt looked at her.
"You're saying it now," he said.
"It's too late—"
"It's not." He said it simply, without drama.
"It's not too late.
You came.
You filmed it.
You told Ryan.
You're here right now." He paused.
"That's not nothing, Carol."
She pressed her hand over her eyes for a moment.
Ryan pulled a chair from the corner and sat down.
The four of us were quiet for a moment in the small curtained space, and it felt like something had shifted — not loudly, but the way a foundation shifts when weight is finally redistributed correctly.
"What happens now?" Carol asked.
"I want to send Selena the video," I said.
Everyone looked at me.
"Not to threaten her.
Not to post it anywhere.
I want to send it to her privately, with a message.
I want her to watch herself.
I want her to see exactly what she looked like in that room while Matt was reading that letter."
"She'll say Carol had no right to film her," Ryan said.
"She can say whatever she wants.
She should still see it."
Matt tilted his head.
"And Gerald?"
"Gerald was right there beside her.
He can watch it too."
Ryan was quiet for a moment.
Then: "I'll send it."
"Ryan—"
"She's my mother.
It should come from me." He looked at me.
"I'll write the message.
You can read it before I send it."
I nodded.
Carol reached into her bag and sent the file to Ryan's phone.
We heard it arrive.
Nobody spoke.
Then Matt said, very quietly: "I want to see what she does."
And so did I.
But what none of us expected was that Selena wouldn't wait for us to make the next move.
May you like
She made it herself.
That same night.
