Chapter 2 - The Photograph in Maddie's Hands
The garden went completely silent. Sixty-three guests, a string quartet mid-note, and not one sound but the wind moving through the trees.
I looked down at what Maddie held out with both hands.
It was a photograph. Old, worn soft at the edges, creased through the middle like it had been folded and unfolded a hundred times — the kind of picture you tuck away in a drawer, not the kind you frame and hang on a wall.
In it, Grant stood outside a church in a dark suit, grinning the way he'd grinned at me a hundred times. Beside him stood a woman I had never once seen or heard mentioned.
She was wearing a white dress.
Not Michelle. Someone else entirely.
My throat tightened until I could barely breathe.
"Grant." My voice came out sharper this time. "Who is she?"
He reached toward the photo like he could take it back and undo whatever was happening. I stepped back before he could touch it.
Maddie was crying openly now, her small voice barely audible. "Mommy said you needed to know. She said it wasn't fair to you."
I looked past her, toward the back row, and found Michelle standing with her arms folded. She wasn't smirking. She wasn't satisfied. She was looking at me with something that felt worse than either of those things — pity.
Grant grabbed my arm. "Please. Let me explain. It was before you. Before all of this."
"Before everything?" My voice cracked down the middle. "Grant. Is that a wedding photo?"
He didn't answer. The silence that followed told me more than any answer could have.
May you like
Then my maid of honor, Paige, stepped forward, her phone already in her hand, her face pale under her makeup.
"There's more," she said quietly. "You need to see this."
