My Family Wants Me Gone, I Take Their Luck With Me novel · Chapter 1 of 32
Chapter 1: The Eighteenth Wedding
Noelle cancels her eighteenth wedding herself, tells her family she is leaving, takes a slap and a disowning, and the luck starts to go before she reaches the gate.
On the day of my eighteenth wedding to Damon Kessington, the guests left with my adopted sister again.
I was standing in the bridal room with one earring in when my mother called.
"Clarissa's stomach is acting up. We're taking her to the hospital."
I could hear sirens behind her. Or maybe it was Clarissa crying.
"Cancel the wedding, Noelle. You know how by now."
She hung up before I could answer.
Then Saffron called. My maid of honor. My best friend since second grade.
She clicked her tongue at me.
"Clarissa nearly fainted and you want everyone to stay for cake? When did you get this cold?"
I hadn't said a word about cake.
Damon didn't call at all.
He sent one text.
Wedding's off. We'll talk about it next time.
I read it twice.
He had sent me those exact words seventeen times before.
I had saved every one of them, in a folder on my phone called Someday.
A laugh came out of me, short and dry.
I waited to feel something.
Nothing came.
Eighteen was enough.
I took out the one earring and set it on the vanity.
Then I walked out to the ballroom in my gown.
The stage was buried in purple violets. Clarissa's favorite flower. I had asked for white roses, and somehow every florist had heard violets.
Two hundred guests were checking their phones.
I picked up the microphone from the band's stand.
"Sorry, everyone. The wedding is canceled."
Nobody gasped.
A woman in the second row didn't even look up from her plate.
"Told you. Eighteen dates and not one ever happened."
"I'd let the sister have him," her husband said. "At least walk away with some dignity."
"Oh, he'll never let her go," someone else said, loud enough. "She's his lucky charm. Every time he tries to break it off, Kessington stock drops through the floor. He's tested it. He lost a fortune."
People laughed into their champagne.
I set the microphone down.
I heard every word.
I didn't mind them anymore.
I drove home to the Penhurst house on the hill to pack one bag.
I had barely opened my closet when the front door burst open downstairs.
Laughter. Footsteps. My father's big voice.
They were bringing Clarissa home from the hospital.
My mother had an arm around her. Saffron carried her purse. Damon carried her.
Clarissa's cheeks were pink and perfect.
They saw me on the stairs with the bag, and every smile dropped.
Damon set Clarissa on the sofa and turned to me with his jaw tight.
"You canceled without giving a reason? Now everyone thinks it was because of her. Again."
"It was because of her," I said. "Again."
My father didn't look at me.
"You always handle the press yourself, Noelle. Put out a statement. Say you were unreasonable and you're sorry."
Saffron already had her phone out.
"I'll have my publicist set it up. And a few accounts can push it, so nobody blames Clarissa."
I looked around the room.
My father, whose company was saved the morning after I was born.
Saffron, who cried in a bathroom stall at eight because nobody would sit with her, until I did.
Damon, who was selling fake watches at the Gull Point street fair when I got lost there at nineteen, and walked me home.
They had loved me for years.
Then Clarissa came to live with us three years ago, and one by one they stopped.
Clarissa coughed into a tissue.
"It's my fault. Please don't push the wedding back again. There are still good dates this month."
Damon went straight to her and rubbed her back.
"Don't. It's not on you." He glanced up at me. "She can't live without me. The date doesn't matter."
I lifted my bag.
"I'm leaving."
The slap came so fast I didn't see my mother move.
My head turned with it. I tasted copper.
"After everything we've given you? You want the whole city saying we don't love you?"
Her hand was shaking. Her eyes weren't.
"God help me, I wish we'd only had Clarissa."
Behind her, Clarissa lowered her tissue. For half a second, she smiled at me.
My father finally looked up.
"Then go. Leave everything that's ours. Tomorrow we hold a press conference and tell the city you're not a Penhurst anymore."
The housekeeper took the bag out of my hand. She wouldn't meet my eyes.
Damon walked me to the door. He pressed a key into my palm.
"There's an apartment downtown. Use it. We're all too tired for this, Noelle."
He lowered his voice.
"Some nights I wish I'd walked her home that night instead of you."
"Then marry her," I said.
"Don't start. I said I'll marry you, and I will."
He went back inside to Clarissa.
I opened my hand and let his key drop on the front step.
I gave myself three days.
Three days to cut every thread that tied me to these people.
I walked down the long drive in my wedding gown with nothing in my hands.
The night air smelled like cut grass and the sea.
For the first time in three years, I didn't look back at the house.
Halfway to the gate, I heard my father's phone ring through the open door.
Then I heard him stop laughing.
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