She stared, then laughed in disbelief.
“Oh my God. You think I’m his mistress?”
“Then why does my husband know you? Why were you at my daughter’s bakery with him?”
“This isn’t the time.”
“No, David. You’ve had long enough.”
She turned toward me.
“Your husband and I are not having an affair.”
“Then why does he know you?”
She glanced at Emma, who had followed us downstairs.
“That’s not the question you should be asking.”
Someone spoke behind me.
“Don’t.”
Ryan, Emma’s fiancé, stood near the staircase.
The woman’s expression suddenly softened.
“Ryan.”
He stiffened.
“You know her?”
“My dad knows her too.”
“Your father made sure I disappeared.”
“Stop,” Ryan said.
“What is going on?” I demanded.
David touched my arm.
“Laura, we should go somewhere private.”
I pulled away.
“No. Last night, you let me think you were sleeping with this woman. Emma obviously knows something. Ryan knows her. Nobody is taking me into another room and telling me to be patient.”
The woman faced me.
“You want to know why David knows me?”
“Yes.”
“Because your daughter is marrying my son.”
I stared at Ryan, stunned.
“No.”
He closed his eyes briefly.
“She’s my biological mother.”
Emma moved beside him while I tried to understand.
“You knew?”
She nodded.
“How long?”
“A couple of months.”
“And David?”
Emma looked at her father.
“I asked Dad to help.”
The truth gradually emerged.
Ryan’s mother had left during his childhood, and his father raised him. For years, Ryan believed she had simply abandoned him.
As his wedding approached, he began wondering whether she knew about it, whether she cared, and whether he’d regret never learning why she left.
Emma encouraged him to seek answers.
Because discussing his mother was difficult with his father, Ryan agreed to Emma’s suggestion that David help locate her.
My husband had secretly found Ryan’s mother and arranged a meeting.
“That’s what this was?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me last night?”
“Because Ryan asked me not to tell anyone.”
“You watched me think you were having an affair.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me something.”
“I didn’t know what I could say without betraying him.”
“You found a way to protect everyone except your wife.”
David had no answer.
I remembered the bakery.
“Why were you there with her?”
“She wanted to see something connected to the wedding.”
Ryan’s mother interrupted.
“I knew I wasn’t invited.”
“I asked David about the cake. He told me where it was being made.”
David sighed.
“I shouldn’t have taken her there.”
“But you did.”
“Yes.”
Weeks earlier, David had accompanied her to the bakery, where she saw the cake designs and discovered who was handling the order.
I turned to her.
“What’s your name?”
She hesitated.
Then she said, “Laura.”
Suddenly, the instruction at the bakery made sense.
The cake wasn’t to be released to Laura. No surname or mention of the bride’s mother.
“You called the bakery.”
She remained silent.
“You pretended to be Emma.”
“I called.”
“And told them not to give me the cake.”
“I told them not to release it to Laura.”
“That was me.”
“It was also me.”
Ryan stepped forward.
“Did you really do that?”
“I was trying to get someone to listen.”
“By interfering with our wedding?”
“I didn’t damage anything.”
“You impersonated my fiancée.”
“I knew the bakery would call once there was a problem.”
Her plan became clear.
“You knew I’d show up.”
She nodded.
“You knew they’d refuse me the cake.”
Another nod.
“And then I’d call Emma.”
“Yes.”
Ryan looked horrified.
With tears forming, she explained.
“I knew the confusion would make someone start asking questions.”
I could understand her desperation, though not her actions.
She claimed Ryan’s father had obstructed visitation after their divorce. Young, broke, and overwhelmed, she’d struggled with unanswered calls and canceled meetings until she eventually stopped trying.
“I made mistakes. But I did not wake up one morning and decide I didn’t want my son.”