I turn and give her a polite smile. "Hi, Sarah."
She tilts her head, eyes sharp. "Big day."
"Yep," I say.
She takes a step forward like she wants to add something, and I already know it won't be kind. She still hasn't forgiven me for not letting her talk over my life. She still believes she's entitled to it.
I hold her gaze and keep my voice calm. "If you're here to celebrate, you're welcome to wave and keep it friendly. If you're here to poke at me, you can save it for someone who cares."
Sarah's mouth opens, then closes.
I nod once, the conversation done, and walk to my car.
That's the whole thing. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't perform. I didn't beg to be understood. I just walked away.
For years, I thought that kind of peace was for other women.
It wasn't.
The venue is small, which is the only way I can handle a wedding without wanting to hide in a bathroom. It's a quiet place withclean lines, a few rows of chairs, flowers that don't scream, and space for Jace to fidget without anyone acting like he's ruining something.
When I arrive, there's a hum of voices, and I feel eyes turn. Small town eyes. Curious eyes. Some of them are kind. Some are not.
I don't flinch anymore.
Nora squeezes my hand. "You good?"
I nod. "I'm good."
Dad stands near the entrance, hands clasped, watching like he's trying to do this right. He meets my gaze and gives a small nod.
"Are you walking me in?" I ask.
His eyes widen a little. "If you want me to."
I swallow. "I want you to."
His face shifts, and for a second he looks like he might cry. Then he clears his throat hard and says, "Okay," like he's trying not to make it a big thing.
We line up. The music starts. My stomach flips again, and my hands go cold.
Then I see Gabe at the front.
He's facing forward, jaw tight, shoulders squared. He looks like he's holding himself together by force. Then he turns his head slightly, just enough to check.
His eyes land on me.
Everything in his face changes.
His mouth parts. His eyes go wet. His throat works like he's swallowing something heavy. He doesn't look away. He doesn't blink it back. He just stares at me like he's seeing his whole life click into place.
And I'm done.
Tears spill down my face, and I laugh at the same time because of course I'm crying. I'm the woman who cried once in a parking lot because the grocery store was out of the yogurt I liked.
Dad whispers, "You okay?"
"Yeah," I whisper back. "I'm just… yeah."
