“Do you take this husband, formerly your daughter’s?”
I shouldn’t have cared, but the ache remained. Not because I missed Adam — I didn’t. What I missed was the version of life I thought I had — the peaceful mornings, the shared jokes, the quiet intimacy of someone choosing me.
That illusion was long gone.
An hour into their reception, my phone buzzed. Sophie.
I wiped my eyes before answering. “Hey.”
Her voice was fast and breathless.
That illusion was long gone.
“Tessa, you won’t believe what’s happening! You need to come! Grab a taxi and come here right now! You cannot miss this!”
“What? Why? What happened?”
“I can’t explain over the phone. But trust me — you want to be here!”
I hesitated. Being around white roses and people celebrating betrayal was the last thing I desired. But Sophie wasn’t dramatic. If she said I needed to come, I was going.
“What? Why? What happened?”
I didn’t change or brush my hair. I just called a taxi, heart pounding the entire way.
The venue was a rented banquet hall on the edge of town. I walked in like a ghost — invisible and uninvited.
Sophie was waiting near the entrance. Her face was pale, but her jaw was tight with fury.
“Come on,” she whispered, grabbing my hand. “You’re going to want front-row seats.”
“What is happening?” I asked.
“Just wait.”
Her face was pale,
but her jaw was tight with fury.
She led me to a corner of the room just as the DJ lowered the volume, and guests turned their heads. Linda stood at the head table, glowing in her ivory lace gown, her hair pinned up with pearls.
Adam sat beside her, smiling like a smug little boy who got everything he ever wanted.
Sophie stepped forward, tapping her glass sharply.
The room went quiet.
My heart pounded. Linda beamed, assuming Sophie was about to toast them.
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