Carolyn’s mother was against the marriage. Her sister Lauren, who was currently working as a banker in Hong Kong, was not going to fly in. Her biological father, who hadn’t really been in her life since she was eight years old, would not be invited. Carolyn hated him yet was haunted by him. She remained very much a Bessette. On her forefinger she wore her mother’s wedding ring from that first marriage. She and her mother had dipped it first in holy water, as if to purify it. “Isn’t that fucked up?” she’d say. Yet she wore it constantly.
