“Please welcome the groom, Adrian!”
A polished shoe touched the gravel.
Then Sean stepped out into the light.
He was wearing the tuxedo I had chosen myself, six months ago, for our eighth anniversary.
My husband… was Vanessa’s groom?
There had to be a mistake.
I stared as Sean smiled and waved at the guests.
My husband… was Vanessa’s groom?
Then he turned toward the arch, and his eyes found mine.
The smile died.
The color drained out of him so fast I thought he might fall.
Vanessa followed his stare, looked at me, looked at him, and smirked.
“Oh,” she said, drifting toward him. “You never told me you knew the staff.”
I nearly dropped my clipboard.
“You never told me you knew the staff.”
Whispers moved through the courtyard like wind through wheat.
I looked around at the guests, at my husband, who was whispering fiercely to Vanessa.
