Guests whispered.
Eyes lingered.
Phones subtly recorded.
—
But the center of attention had shifted.
—
Not to the bride.
Not to the groom.
—
To the woman who wasn’t supposed to matter anymore.
—
—
After the ceremony, during the reception, Richard found her alone near the edge of the garden.
—
For the first time—
He approached without an audience.
“You look… different,” he said.
Emily didn’t turn immediately.
—
“I am,” she replied.
—
He stepped closer.
—
“You could have told me,” he said. “About all of this.”
—
She finally faced him.
—
“Why?” she asked softly.
—
He frowned.
—
“We have a history,” he said.
—
She nodded.
—
“Yes,” she said. “We do.”
—
A pause.
