Upstairs, I knew none of this yet.
I was watching my bridesmaids fasten the damaged train into the bustle.
Upstairs, I knew none of this yet.
When they finished, I stood.
The dress was wearable.
It wasn’t fixed.
The torn lace was still there if you knew where to look.
“It’s not the same,” I said.
Mom came beside me.
“No.”
The dress was wearable.
I looked at her in the mirror.
She adjusted one loose piece near my waist.
Then she smiled.
“But I already saw you walk down the aisle. That’s the part I wanted, honey.”
I looked at her.
My eyes filled again.
This time I let them.
My eyes filled again.
Mom squeezed my hand.
“Nobody gets to take that part back.”
A minute later, Nathan knocked.
He came inside and told me everything.
The photo.
His mother.
The surprise dance.
What he’d canceled.
“Nobody gets to take that part back.”
Then he asked the question I hadn’t expected.
“Do you want her to leave?”
I looked at him.
“You decide. I’ll handle it.”
For months, Isabella had turned every wedding decision into evidence about who mattered more.
I suddenly didn’t want to give her one more decision.
