Chapter 6: The Venue
The wedding was staged in a glass pavilion overlooking the river, the kind of place Connor booked when he wanted witnesses more than intimacy.
I arrived after the ushers had seated most of the guests and before the processional music began. Brinley slept against my chest in a carrier, one fist tucked under her chin. The sealed envelope sat in the exterior pocket of the diaper bag, ordinary as wipes and spare onesies. Parker waited near the side entrance in a dark suit, not as my date, as my counsel. He nodded once and took a position where he could see the altar and the exit.
A few guests noticed me and went still. Others looked through me, already trained by Connor’s posts to treat my absence as the natural order. Betsy saw me from the front row. Her face passed through surprise into offense. Connor, standing near the officiant with his hands clasped, followed her gaze. For a moment his expression held pure calculation—how to remove me without a scene—then he settled on a tight smile, as if my presence were a final pathetic gesture he could tolerate.
May you like
Alyssa appeared at the far doors in white, one hand on the curve of her belly, the other on her father’s arm. The room stood. I remained seated until the vows began, then rose only when the officiant asked whether anyone present knew a reason the marriage should not proceed.
I stepped into the aisle with Brinley and the envelope.
