“No,” I stopped him, placing a hand on his chest. “He’s not worth it. He’s not worth your anger or my tears. Let’s do this with class. Let’s go in there, and I’m going to tell everyone I’m free.”
My father took a deep breath, nodded, and offered me his arm, not to hand me over, but to hold me.
—I’m with you, my girl. Always.
We entered the main hall. The wedding music, the march meant to announce my triumphant entrance, began to play. All the guests stood, turning to look at me. They smiled, taking out their phones to take pictures. Jerry and Vanessa hadn’t come upstairs yet; they must be downstairs, trying to compose themselves or plotting how to keep me under control.
I walked to the altar, but I didn’t stop at the bride’s place. I climbed up to the pulpit and took the microphone from the priest, who was looking at me, puzzled.
Silence fell over the room. I could feel the confusion in the air. I took a deep breath, looking at all those people who loved me.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my amplified voice ringing clear and firm. “I know everyone came to celebrate love. But there will be no wedding today.”
A murmur of astonishment swept through the pews.