“There won’t be a ceremony today.”
Whispers spread instantly through the church.
Behind me, Julian stood motionless.
My father looked crushed by years of regret.
“There won’t be a ceremony today.”
And suddenly, I understood something painful about adults.
They weren’t wiser than everyone else.
They were just people carrying old mistakes for so long that they forgot how heavy they’d become.
I lifted my dress slightly and walked down the aisle alone.
Not abandoned.