“I didn’t expect you to come,” he said, studying me carefully.
“I’m here for your mother,” I replied simply.
He nodded slowly. “You look… different.”
“I am,” I said. And for the first time, I meant it.
Before he could say more, the music faded and attention shifted.
Elena stood.
The room quieted almost instantly.
“They say marriage is about building something honest,” she began, her voice calm but unwavering. “But you can’t build anything real on something that was taken.”
A ripple moved through the crowd.
She turned toward Sarah. “Do you recognize the dress Micaela is wearing?”
The question landed like a crack in the room.
Sarah froze.
At a nearby table, one of the bridesmaids shifted uncomfortably before speaking, her voice barely steady.
“She wore it before,” she said. “At the vineyard party. With Kyle.”
The words echoed.
Sarah’s composure broke instantly. “Don’t do this,” she snapped, her voice rising.
But it was already unraveling.
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