Dad shook his head. “I don’t know.
This looks like something else entirely.”
His usual confident smile was nowhere to be seen. He kept running his hands through his hair and looking toward the entrance like he was expecting someone unwelcome to walk through the doors.
This wasn’t nerves.
This was something more.
And beside him was a woman I’d never seen before.
Short gray bob, modest navy dress, and eyes that scanned the crowd like she was hunting for someone specific. I assumed that was Margaret, the last-minute officiant.
The music started, and Dad and I began our walk down the aisle. Adam’s face when he saw me should have been pure joy.
Instead, he looked like he might be sick.
Margaret began the ceremony in a calm, clear voice.
The language she used was off. It felt too rehearsed, like she was trying to get a certain message across.
“Marriage is a sacred bond,” she said. “It’s easy to love someone in the light.
But true love is proven in darkness. When hardship hits. When children come.
When someone is sick, and someone must stay.”
I tilted my head.
That’s not standard wedding language, I thought. Sarah had never talked like this during our rehearsals.
Then, Margaret looked directly at me and said something I never wanted to hear.
