I’m finished defending myself.”
Olivia sent the video.
Outside, the music changed.
That was our signal.
The ceremony was beginning.
My hands trembled once, so I curled them around the bouquet until they stopped.
I wasn’t fearless.
I was furious.
I was hurt.
Part of me wanted my actual gown so badly that I could almost feel its fabric beneath my hands.
But I also understood something Victoria had never understood about me.
Embarrassment only has power when you agree to be embarrassed.
She had turned my dress into a weapon.
I could refuse to let it wound me.
Olivia opened the bridal-suite door.
“You look insane,” she whispered.
I smiled.
“Perfect.”
The first bridesmaid walked into the garden.
Then the second.
Olivia squeezed my hand and followed them.
I waited alone.
Through the doors, I could hear the rustle of guests turning toward the aisle.
Then my father appeared.
He stopped so abruptly that I nearly laughed again.
His eyes traveled from my carefully styled hair to the bright clown suit and finally to the red nose in my hand.
“Lily?”
“Long story.”
His face changed.
“Are you okay?”
That question nearly broke me.
I nodded.
“I will be.”
He offered me his arm without asking another question.
The doors opened.
Every head turned.
For perhaps two seconds, the garden was completely silent.
Then came the gasps.
Someone whispered my name.
One of Ethan’s cousins covered her mouth.
My mother stood halfway out of her chair, staring at me in horror.
And Victoria Montgomery went white.
Not confused.
Not shocked.
Afraid.
That was all the confirmation I needed.
I began walking.
My father kept his pace steady beside me.
I did not hide the clown costume.
I did not rush.
I did not look at the ground.
I walked toward Ethan exactly as I had imagined doing for months, except I was wearing oversized colored fabric instead of a wedding gown.
Ethan stood beneath the arch.
His phone was still in his hand.
Olivia had sent him the footage.
He had watched it.
