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A Proposition

Making breakfast, I manage to not burn it, which is a big success for me. As I finish eating, my phone rings, or rather, Jackson’s work mobile. I look at it. It feels weird, but I know I have to answer it.

“Hello, this is Alena,” I answer, not sure what to say.

“Hi Alena, this is Sarah. We have an issue, and we can’t resolve it ourselves. We have tried, as we know you're busy planning the wedding, but we are unsure what to do. Could you please come in?”

“Sure, I will be right there,” I reply, hanging up and getting ready. Maybe this will keep my mind occupied. Driving up, it feels weird coming here without Jackson. I get out and walk inside and am greeted by two angry men and a woman crying between them.

“What happened?” I ask, looking around.

“I’m sorry again Alena. Susan’s husband followed her here. We refused to let him upstairs, and he pushed past. Security chased him, by which time he had already seen Susan with a couple in one of the rooms.” How do I sort this out?

“We don’t wan
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