I had a hundred sentences ready.
I thought of Ethan scanning the front row, finding me red-faced and shaking, hearing whispers from rows of strangers.
I thought of the photograph that would live on his shelf forever.
I closed my mouth.
“Fine,” I said.
Vanessa looked up just long enough to smile. “There are seats in the back, I think.”
I thought of Ethan scanning the front row
I turned.
The aisle felt longer walking back than it had when I approached my seat.
I walked all the way to the rear of the auditorium, past rows of grandparents and siblings and proud uncles, past every chair that was not mine.
I found a patch of empty wall near the double doors and pressed my back against it.
I held the bouquet up under my chin so no one would see my hands shake.
