My Swiss Knife Her Scar His Wedding Day Chapter 01
The day Grant Bennett cheated, I used the Leatherman multi-tool he’d given me to slice my stepsister’s face open.
After I went to prison, our marriage was automatically dissolved. He finally gave her the wedding of her dreams.
Three years later, I got out.
Grant hired twenty security guards to keep me away.
He set up many traps to send me back to prison.
He even sent so many messengers I lost count-let me name my price, anything-as long as I promised not to hurt Ariana Collins again.
But he worried for nothing.
I disappeared from his life like a drop of water merging into the ocean.
The next time we met, it was at my auto shop.
I spit out the toothpick I’d been chewing on and lifted the hood with my oil-stained fingers. Calm as ever,
I asked him, “How old’s the car?”
He clenched his jaw so hard I thought his teeth might crack. “Paige,” he squeezed out, “this is the first
gift I ever gave you.”
***
I paused, wrench in hand.
“Oh. That’s been a while. Needs a major overhaul.”
My voice was so flat he blinked a few times, opened his mouth, and said nothing.
I tapped each bolt with the wrench, thorough and focused.
Like that flashy yellow sports car was no different from the thousands of other cars I’d fixed.
Maybe the metallic sound got on his nerves. His face shifted through a few expressions before he
twisted out a sarcastic smile.
“Look, Paige, if you need money, just call me. Don’t scatter nails on the road to lure me to this shithole
so you can put on a show.”
I laughed like he was just any other customer making small talk.
“If I could act, I’d be a movie star. You came from Maple Street, right? The news said a truck spilled a
load of steel nails there yesterday. You should be careful.”
I grabbed a rag and wiped the grease off my hands.
Grant stared at that rag-once pink, now faded white with frayed edges. He finally snapped, raising his
voice.
“Paige, you used to be so damn proud. Claustrophobic, OCD, germaphobe-the whole rich-girl starter pack. You’d wipe a speck of dust off your heels for ten minutes. One drop of oil on the table and you’d fire
the maid on the spot. And now you-”
“Hey, girl, can you take a look at my car? The AC’s out.”
A woman in a floral blouse pushed the shop door open and shoved her keys into my hand.
“Got it, Janet,” I said, taking the keys. “Probably low on Freon. Easy fix.”
“Alright, you stay busy.” She patted my shoulder, glanced at Grant, and lowered her voice. “You got a
customer? I’ll head out. Talk later.”
After Janet left, I remembered Grant was still there. I gave him a polite smile.
“Mr. Bennett, your car’s done. That’ll be twenty dollars.”
“You…”
He stared at me for a long time. Finally, he pulled out his phone and scanned the code to pay.
I saw the five-hundred-dollar transfer and waved my hands.
“Mr. Bennett, that’s way too much. Let me send it back.”
I instinctively went to find him on Venmo.
Then I remembered-he’d blocked me after I went to prison.
So I just scratched my head. “Well, this is awkward. Mr. Bennett, can you show me your payment code?”
“You… didn’t you say it needs major work?” His expression was complicated. “Check the other parts for
- Does that cover it?”
I perked up.
“More than enough. Have a seat.”
I dragged over a folding stool and pushed it toward him. Seeing his tailored suit, I found a slightly
cleaner rag to put on the seat.
He sat down stiffly after a long silence, elegant, hands on his knees.
Then the glass door squeaked and he flinched.
“Paige, you’re still on the clock at lunchtime? Business must be booming. No wonder you splurged on
the two-entree combo.” A delivery guy walked in, carrying my DoorDash order. “Whoa, fancy car. Rare
customer.”
I cracked a few jokes with him and took my food.
Grant shifted uncomfortably at the word “rare customer.” He turned his face away and exhaled softly.
But that’s just how the neighbors were.
Wendy from the nail salon next door ran in to ask if I wanted to grab BBQ tonight.
The office girl upstairs dropped off her big suitcase and asked me to hold it till evening.
A student rushed in to borrow a charger.
Their eyes-curious or sizing him up-lingered on Grant.
Finally, he shifted and crossed his legs.
“Paige, is this what you’ve sunk to? Hanging out with… these small-town people?”