Don’t Worry. I Won’t Show Up And Ruin Your Party “Deirdre is the one you truly love! So what’s with
this…. wedding with Charlene? God, it’s like I don’t even know my own son anymore!”
Brendan was silent. Then, almost languidly, he said, ‘This is between Deirdre and me, mom. You don’t
have to care.” “I don’t have to care?” Madame Brighthall took a deep breath to maintain her
composure. “I would love to turn away, Bren! I even wish you could just marry Charlene already, and
then what happened? You would put yourself at death’s reach if it meant you could keep Deirdre by
your side. But now that you have her back with you, you… go ahead and do these things that just don’t
make any sense!” ‘This whole thing is hard to explain.”
Madame Brighthall felt her heart chilled. “So, you’re not even going to attempt to explain it, are you? Or
are you telling me that the one you love has always been Charlene McKinney, and the only reason you
did so much to get Deirdre back was that you’re just that possessive?”
Brendan thinned his lips. The moonlight illuminated his features in its silvery coldness, making him look
like he was sculpted from a block of ice. He did not say anything, and yet Madame Brighthall
understood.
Disappointment filled her eyes. “Remember this: this was your choice.
When the whole thing is over, you don’t even have to lift a finger. I’ll return Deirdre’s freedom to her
myself.”
Brendan’s lips parted, but he seemed to have thought against saying whatever he wanted to say. “You
have to attend the wedding, mom. It’s the only way to show the Brighthall family acknowledging
Charlene. I’ll send Sam to get you.” “I am not going! I thought I’ve made myself clear. I am not sparing
even a glance to a daughter-in-law I don’t even acknowledge. You can tell the world out there that I’m
skipping the event due to health reasons.”
Brendan simply added, ‘Then I’ll personally come to escort you.” “Brendan, you!”
Brendan nodded and turned toward the stairs. That was when he noticed Deirdre standing at the
corner of the steps leading upto the second floor, her hand still on the rail.
His eyes momentarily lost their cultivated facade. The young woman looked much thinner than she
used to be, but her eyes remained clear… and cold.
Her expression deadpanned. She must have heard everything they had said. And yet, she was so
devoid of reaction that it also felt as though she had not heard anything at all.
She turned and walked back down.
“Dee!” Brendan’s hand reached out to her and withdrew itself before it could catch her. Now was not
the time.
“Stay inside for the day. Don’t come out.”
Contempt flitted through her gaze. “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Brighthall. I’m not going to show up and ruin
your party. That would be so pointless.”
Brendan’s finger trembled. Then, he nodded. “Good.”
Deirdre returned to her room, surprised at how calm she was throughout the ordeal. It was as if nothing
Brendan did or said could ever bewilder her anymore.
The world outside was growing louder and merrier. It seemed that Brendan had left the second floor
and returned to Charlene’s side. The guests erupted into cheers and congratulated them as though
they were already a married couple.
Deirdre placed her hand on her abdomen. She was even more certain now that the child should never
be born. Brendan would only use them as a tool to inherit his business, yes, but Charlene would be
worse. There was no way she could even let Deirdre’s child live.
Time passed as Deirdre stared into space. Suddenly, the doorknob turned, and the door opened.
Deirdre was stunned. Did she forget to lock the door?
She looked up and saw a woman under the door frame. “Who’s there?” she asked.
“Miss McKinnon, who else? I’m the only one who remembers you exist on a day as merry as this one.”
Apathy overcame Deirdre’s face as soon as she heard it. “I thought you’d be too busy laughing at
whatever jokes the guests downstairs made to come to see me in a small, unlit room.”
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