The morning of my wedding should have been perfect.
I had already put on my dress.
My hair and makeup were finished.
In less than 30 minutes, I would be walking back up the aisle.
That's when there was a knock at the door of the bridal suite.
I smiled.
Less than 24 hours earlier, at our rehearsal dinner, my future mother-in-law had placed the family necklace, an inheritance from her family, around my neck in front of everyone.
"This has belonged to the women in our family for generations," she had said. "Now it's yours."
People applauded.
I remember thinking that I had finally been accepted.
So when she walked into my bridal suite that morning, I was expecting another hug.
Instead, she gently closed the door behind her.
She glanced down the hallway before turning the key in the lock.
"You have to give me back the necklace."
I laughed.
"I know," I said. "It's magnificent."
"No," she replied.
"You have to take it off."
I stared at her.
" What ? "
She lowered her voice.
"I made a mistake."
For a second, I thought she meant that she had forgotten to clean it, or perhaps another family member wanted to see it before the ceremony.
"I will gladly return it to you after the wedding."
She shook her head.
"It can't wait."
" For what ? "
She held back before glancing back towards the door.
As if she were straining her ears to hear if someone was arriving.
"Please don't ask questions."
The room suddenly seemed much smaller to me.
"You gave it to me in front of both our families," I said. "Why are you asking me for it again now?"
She took another step towards me.
Her hands were trembling.
"Please," she whispered.
"Just give it back to me, that's all."
"Not today."
"What do you mean, 'not today'?"
She remained silent for a few seconds.
Then she finally whispered, "Because if..."
She froze.
" Let go. "
Before I could stop her, she suddenly moved towards me.
Her fingers grasped the necklace.
"I'm sorry," she murmured.
"I have to do it."
She tried to take it off my head.
« Qu’est-ce que tu fais ? », ai-je haleté en lui attrapant le poignet.
C’est alors que la porte de la suite nuptiale s’est ouverte brusquement.
Jenna, ma demoiselle d’honneur, s’est figée sur place.
Son regard a fait des allers-retours entre nous.
Linda lâcha immédiatement le collier et recula d’un pas.
« Oh », dit Jenna avec prudence. « Je vous dérange ? »
Linda a esquissé un sourire qui semblait terriblement forcé.
« Pas du tout. Je vérifiais juste que le fermoir n’était pas desserré. »
Jenna jeta un coup d’œil à mon cou.
« Ça avait l’air plutôt bien attaché. »
Personne ne rit.
« Le photographe te cherche, Carla », a ajouté Jenna après un silence gênant.
Linda acquiesça rapidement.
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