listen—if this goes sideways, they’ll label you the crazy ex. Just stay confident and trust her. She loves you like her own.”
**
On the morning of the wedding, I redid my makeup twice. I pinned up my hair, hands damp, and stared at myself in the mirror.
“You’re not doing this for Mark, Mic,” I whispered. “You’re doing this for Elena. For yourself.”
At the venue, I nearly turned back. The moment I walked in, the room quieted.
Heads turned. Whispers followed.
I saw Mark across the room, confusion flickering across his face. He looked at me like I didn’t belong to the life he was standing in.
I found Elena near the front. She reached for my hand, squeezing it gently.
As I shifted, the inner seam brushed my skin—tiny stitched initials I hadn’t noticed before: C.M. My throat tightened.
“You look perfect,” she murmured. “Thank you for trusting me, darling.”
“Elena, what’s really happening?” I asked quietly.
She gave a faint smile. “You’ll see.”
Her thumb tapped her phone once in her lap, like she had just set something in motion.
A bridesmaid stared at my dress, whispering to another. I met her gaze and didn’t look away.
Sarah walked in on her father’s arm, glowing in white, her bridesmaids trailing behind her in soft pink. She glanced at me, and for a split second, her smile faltered—gone as quickly as it came, replaced with something sharp and unsettled.
The ceremony passed in a blur—vows, promises echoing off stone.
At the reception, tension followed me everywhere. Phones lifted too quickly. Conversations cut off when I turned. Even the servers seemed distracted.
I picked at my food, waiting.
Mark found me near the dance floor, his tie loosened. He hesitated.
“I didn’t expect to see you here, Micaela. Not like this.” His eyes searched mine, lingering on the red dress.
“I’m here for your mother,” I said calmly. “She asked me.”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “She’s always liked you. Sometimes I think she liked you more than—” He stopped, glancing toward Sarah.
“She loves you, Mark,” I said. “But this isn’t about us anymore.”
“You look… different. Stronger. Happier.”
“I am,” I said, realizing I meant it. “I hope you are too.”
He studied me. “Did you ever miss us?”
I sighed. “For a while, every day. But not anymore.”
He opened his mouth to continue, but the music faded and the best man called for attention. Mark gave me one last look before returning to Sarah.
The speech began—jokes, laughter, easy stories.
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But the room felt tight. Waiting.
Then Elena stood.
