I looked straight ahead, focusing on Callum, standing at the altar with his practiced, magazine-cover grin. He looked devastatingly handsome in his charcoal suit, the very image of the perfect groom. My heart didn’t race. It beat steadily, a slow, rhythmic thud against my ribs, as if it already knew the script.

Just as I passed the third row, I heard his father, Douglas Reed, mutter under his breath to a business associate. “I give this marriage six months.”