Chapter 5

She clicks her tongue.

"He called us this morning. Said you're stubborn. Said to keep an eye on you. Said he was scared you'd do something dumb."

She grabs my wrist. "Come on. You're coming with us."

I stumble. "I said I'm not going."

"Not going?" She snorts. "Leave you here alone? Yeah, right. The second we leave, you'll be over there making a scene. Then we look like fools. Nope. You're coming where I can see you."

She shoves me toward the door.

…

The reception is at the Sutton Hotel.

The ceremony was earlier this afternoon. Garden venue. White chairs on the lawn. Rose arch. The officiant pronounced them husband and wife at four sharp. I wasn't there. I told them I'd meet everyone at the reception.

I'm sandwiched between Mom and Dad at the family table.

The lights dim. A spotlight hits the dance floor.

The DJ's voice comes over the speakers.

"Ladies and gentlemen — please welcome, for their very first dance as husband and wife — Mr. and Mrs. Sean Sutton."

The room erupts.

Sean leads Willa onto the floor. She's still in her white gown. He's loosened his tie just enough to look effortless. Practiced.

The first notes of their song drift out. Slow. Sweet.

He pulls her in. She tilts her face up at him, eyes crinkled with laughter.

He reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Someone in the crowd whoops. "Kiss her, man!"

He laughs. Bends. Kisses her forehead.

Mom leans into my ear. "Look how perfect they are together. Let it go."

I don't say anything.

She's right. They look perfect.

When I first told her I was dating the Sean Sutton, she said the exact same thing about us.

The song ends. The applause swells.

The best man steps up to the mic. Champagne flute in hand. He's been waiting for this moment all night.

"Most of you in this room have known these two since they were kids. Sean and Willa , sandbox to altar."

The room awwws.

"I've watched my boy chase her around since they were six years old. I've watched him fight off every guy who ever looked at her sideways. And tonight — finally — he gets to call her his wife."

He raises the flute.

"To the long road home. To the love that survived every storm. To Sean and Willa."

The room raises every glass in the house.

I tilt my head down. Bite back something between a smile and a wince.

Sandbox to altar. Sure.

The storm their love had to survive — that would be me.

I look around the ballroom.

The warm gold uplighting. My pick. The peonies on every table. My pick. The playlist drifting under the speeches. I built it song by song.

Every wedding favor at every place setting — I wrapped them myself.

I planned the whole thing with my own two hands.

Then I handed it over so he could marry someone else.

You know what?

It's fine.

It's actually fine.

I ended it all with my own hands.

My phone buzzes in my clutch. The screen lights up.

9:45 PM. Flight to —

I look at that line. My mouth moves.

Not a smile. Just — the pain stops.

My hand drifts down to my stomach. Soon I'll have someone with my blood. A real career on the other side of the world. Something solid under my feet.

I switch off the screen. Stand up. Head for the doors.