Chapter 10: The Reception Under New Light
The reception had been planned for the courtyard behind the chapel, under string lights and white florals that now felt strangely untouched by everything that had happened inside. Guests who remained gathered in smaller clusters than the seating chart had intended. Conversations stayed low. No one asked me directly about the gray suits or the officers who had finally left the curb once the ceremony concluded. A few of Ethan’s colleagues from the public defender’s office offered quiet handshakes that carried more weight than ordinary wedding greetings. Marcus Bell and the thirty did not attend the reception; their presence had completed its purpose in the aisle. My parents did not appear at all. Caleb sent a brief text that he was driving them home and would call later. The absence created its own clear space around us. Ethan stayed beside me through the shortened toasts and the single dance we had agreed to keep. When the photographer asked for the usual family groupings, I shook my head once. The record of the day would not include staged images of a unity that no longer existed. We cut the cake, thanked the people who had stayed, and left earlier than the timeline had originally allowed. In the car, the silence between us was not empty. It was the first private minute in which the vows, the envelope, and the public collapse of my father’s performance could sit together without an audience.
