Laura made a few attempts to draw me in.
“Would you like to help pick out the flowers?”
“I thought you might want to see the venue.”
I turned her down every time.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Do whatever you like.”
Once, Dad took me aside. “You’re all right with this, aren’t you?”
I paused, then nodded. “If you’re happy, that’s what matters.”
His shoulders visibly eased, as if he’d just been absolved of something I didn’t yet understand.
The wedding invitation arrived six weeks later. An intimate ceremony. Immediate family only. I stared at it for a long time. Mom’s name was nowhere to be found—no mention, no acknowledgment of how little time had passed.
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