Sabrina laughed through tears.
“Of course you’re choosing her now.”
Her mother finally spoke.
“This is not choosing.”
The exact language Michael had used.
“This is consequence.”
Sabrina looked at all of them.
Then left.
The ballroom doors closed.
Nobody moved.
I looked at Michael.
He stood beside the head table staring at the ring.
I wanted to cross the floor.
Hold him.
Tell him everything would be okay.
That would have been another lie.
Instead, I returned to the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen.”
Every face turned.
“I imagine the event planner has never written a contingency plan for this.”
A few nervous laughs.
Good.
“I have no elegant way to conclude what you just witnessed.”
“So I won’t try.”
I looked toward Michael.
“This reception is no longer celebrating the marriage we expected.”
“Anyone who wishes to leave should do so without embarrassment.”
“Anyone who wishes to stay…”
I looked at the tables.
“The food is paid for.”
That got more laughter.
My brother raised his glass.
“Finally, some good news.”
I smiled.
“The bar is also paid for.”
Applause.
Actual applause.
Not for me.
For alcohol.
Exactly what we needed.
I continued.
“The musicians are here.”
“The flowers are alive.”
“Our families traveled.”
“We have had enough taken from this day.”
“I will not let the rest of the evening become another thing somebody stole.”
Michael looked at me.
Tears filled his eyes.
“So if you stay, eat.”
“Talk.”
“Be kind.”
“And please…”
I looked toward my son.
“Do not ask Michael to explain anything tonight.”
The room softened.
“He owes nobody a statement.”
“He owes nobody a decision.”
“He owes himself time.”
I stepped away from the microphone.
My brother stood.
Then Michael’s best man.
Then three cousins.
One by one, they approached Michael.
Not asking questions.
Just touching his shoulder.
Hugging him.
Standing beside him.
His bride’s younger sister remained at her table.
Alone.
I walked toward her.
She stood quickly.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Tears ran down her face.
“I gave her the key.”
“You were lied to.”
“I should have known.”
“Based on what?”
“She was acting strange.”
“That is hindsight.”
“I helped her.”
“You helped her enter the room.”
“Yes.”
“You did not know what she planned.”
“No.”
“Then tell police exactly that.”
She nodded.
“I’m still responsible.”
“To some extent.”
She looked surprised.
I was not going to comfort her with a lie either.
“You broke a hotel security rule.”
“You gave another person access to a key.”
“That matters.”
Her face fell.
I continued.
“So does the fact that you preserved the video and came forward.”
“Responsibility is not always all or nothing.”
She cried harder.
“I thought you would hate me.”