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The church was breathtaking, a sanctuary of manufactured perfection. White roses cascaded down the altar, their petals scattered along the aisle like fallen snow. Golden sunlight streamed through stained-glass windows, painting the air in holy hues of amber and rose.\u00a0As the string quartet played a melody so soft it felt like a prayer,\u00a0200 guests watched me walk toward what I believed was my future.<\/p>\n
My heart hammered against my ribs, but it was the good kind of racing\u2014the frantic, joyful pulse of a dream made real. Colton stood at the altar, impossibly handsome in his tailored black tuxedo, his dark eyes locked on mine. He looked nervous, which made me smile. Even after three years, I could still do that to him.<\/p>\n
The pastor opened his worn Bible, the scent of old paper and incense filling the space between us. \u201cWe are gathered here today to witness the union of Colton James Wellington and Anna Rose Derek in holy matrimony.\u201d<\/p>\n
I squeezed Colton\u2019s hands. His palms were slick with sweat.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you, Colton, take Anna to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse, till death do you part?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI do,\u201d he managed, his voice cracking just slightly.<\/p>\n
The pastor turned his gentle gaze to me. \u201cDo you, Anna, take Colton to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold in sickness and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n
The word cut through the sacred silence like a blade. Every head in the church swiveled. A wave of gasps rippled through the congregation. From her place at my side, my maid of honor, Karen Oscar, stepped forward. The woman I\u2019d known since kindergarten, the keeper of all my secrets, fears, and dreams. She wore the dusty rose bridesmaid dress we had chosen together, but her face was twisted into an ugly mask of defiance I had never seen before.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t let this happen,\u201d she announced, her voice ringing with a terrible clarity. \u201cAnna, you need to know the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n
My father half-rose from his seat in the front pew, his face a thundercloud. My mother grabbed his arm, her knuckles white. The whispers started instantly, a low, venomous buzz.<\/p>\n