Angela bristled, but Amber ignored her. “Some people have no class,” Angela said stiffly, with a militant set to her jaw. Her hair was the same expensive blond as her son’s, perfectly coiffed and sprayed into an unnatural stiffness.
“And some people have giant sticks shoved so far up their ass they forgot what class looks like,” Amber shot back. She turned around and patted Lily’s hand. “Take your time, Lil. You don’t owe anyone anything.”
The door to the vestibule opened, and Lily glimpsed the crowded church—family and friends, Madison included.
Savvie and Tessa went first with their flower baskets, scattering petals down the aisle. One by one, her bridal party followed while she watched numbly.
And then it was her turn.
The first strains of the wedding march swelled through the church, and she took a step forward, her hand clenched around her bouquet.
Annette appeared at her side, her hand slipping beneath Lily’s arm to guide her down the aisle. Lily didn’t dare glance at her. Annette’s calm, poised presence next to her was as unshakable as ever. Lily took a deep breath and tried to feel her knees.
They took a halting step forward. The crowd blurred in herperiphery, the faces of her family and friends indistinct as her vision tunneled.
And then she saw him—Tucker, rocking back and forth on his heels beside Father O’Connell, hands clasped in front of him with the same pursed-lip expression as his mother on his face.
Each step closer felt heavier than the last. The unwieldy bouquet trembled in her hand.
Madison looked away as Lily walked past her, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
Her final step brought her up to the altar, and she paused.
Could she forget the photo? Could she pretend the last five minutes had never happened and give up her dignity, her self-respect, and live with the betrayal—just to avoid the chaos that would follow?
Bitterness filled her as she stopped in front of Tucker.
“Babe, you look so beautiful,” Tucker said, reaching for her hands.
Her legs locked. Tucker’s face wavered in front of her, but this time it wasn’t from faintness.
It was rage.
How dare he? How dare he stand there, knowing what he’d done, and look at her as if nothing had changed?
Her voice, when it finally came, was clear and succinct in the utter silence of the chapel.
“Fuck. Off.”
Shocked gasps filled the sanctuary. Savvie and Tessa looked up at her with interest, but for once, Lily didn’t hang around to apologize.
She turned, her heels clicking against the tile as she headed toward the arched double doors.
“Take this!” Evie rushed forward and thrust the inhaler into her palm.
Lily stopped, her chest heaving as she looked at her sister. The fierce protectiveness in Evie’s eyes nearly undid her. “I can’t stay,” Lily said, her voice shaking.
“We’ll handle it,” Evie said firmly.
Lily’s eyes closed briefly, and then she turned, bursting through the stained-glass doors into the frigid November air.
The cold bit through her satin gown, sharp and bracing and somehow exhilarating at the same time.
Behind her, Savvie’s mischievous little voice echoed in the stunned chapel, “Fuck. Off.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in Lily’s throat as she ran down the church steps, leaving behind everything she no longer wanted.
This was her beginning.
