“Babe, what’s going on?”
Andrew ignored her completely.
And as he walked toward the back row, I suddenly realized something deeply unsettling.
He wasn’t angry.
He looked terrified.
The man beside me finally released my hand and stood slowly to his feet.
Tall. Elegant. Silver-haired. Calm in a way that made the entire room unconsciously shift around him.
When Andrew reached us, he stopped several feet away.
His face had gone pale.
“You came,” he said quietly.
The man nodded once.
“You invited me.”
My stomach tightened.
Andrew looked briefly at me, shame flashing across his expression.
Then back at the man.
“I didn’t think you actually would.”
The stranger adjusted the cuff of his charcoal suit.
“That’s usually what people hope when they send invitations out of obligation.”
Claire had now abandoned the altar completely and hurried toward us, heels clicking sharply across the stone path.
“What is happening?” she asked.
No one answered immediately.
Finally, Andrew swallowed hard and looked at me.
