“Then they can wait.”
He lowered his voice. “Don’t walk into the parking lot in your wedding dress and turn this into a scene.”
I looked down at the dress, then back at him.
“We have 200 people waiting.”
“I can’t meet her as a bride,” I said.
Rachel’s voice softened. “Then meet her as Sophie.”
I opened the office door. My mother stood outside.
“Sophie,” she said. “Think about how this looks.”
“I am.”
I walked past her.
Guests turned as I crossed the back of the chapel. I heard whispers. My name. Nolan’s name. Delay.
“Then meet her as Sophie.”
I kept walking.
A woman stood beside a gray sedan, wearing black pants and a blue work blouse. She held a folder against her chest like it was keeping her upright.
She didn’t look like a jealous ex. She looked tired.
I stopped a few feet away.
“I’m Sophie.”
“I know. I’m Trisha,” she said. “I’m not here to ruin your wedding.”
A woman stood beside a gray sedan.
“Then why are you here?”
Her eyes moved over my dress, then back to my face.
“Because my son has been treated like an inconvenience by enough adults already.”