“Should I update the floor diagram?”
Dad looked at her.
“Update what?”
She checked her clipboard.
“It shows Ellie in the second seat of the first row.”
The room became quiet.
My stomach tightened.
Dad turned toward Vanessa.
“Why?”
Vanessa looked genuinely surprised.
“Oh.
That must be an old version.”
The coordinator checked the date.
“This was emailed yesterday.”
Vanessa’s smile froze.
Dad’s voice became lower.
“By who?”
The coordinator looked uncomfortable.
“Vanessa’s planning address.”
Every adult in the room suddenly became fascinated by something else.
Vanessa laughed lightly.
“I must have sent the wrong file.”
Dad did not laugh.
“You sent a version that removed my daughter from the ceremony.”
“I sent the wrong version.”
“Why does that version exist?”
Vanessa looked toward me.
“Daniel, not in front of Ellie.”
Dad’s expression changed.
“This is specifically about Ellie.”
“Can we please not make this into a crisis?”
“You changed the ceremony.”
“I said it was a mistake.”
Claire stepped closer to me.
Dad looked at the coordinator.
“Put Ellie beside me.”
“Absolutely.”
Then he looked at Vanessa.
“We’ll talk later.”
Vanessa’s cheeks were red.
For the rest of rehearsal, she did not look at me once.
Afterward, everyone moved toward the restaurant.
Dad was pulled aside by Marcus.
Claire went to get her coat.
I was alone near the ballroom entrance for less than a minute.
Vanessa appeared beside me.
“You told him.”
“What?”
“About the seating.”
“No.”
“You must have.”
“I didn’t even know.”
She stared at me.
Then her expression changed.
“Listen to me.”
I stepped back.
“Tomorrow is the last day things are like this.”
I did not understand.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father is marrying me.”
“I know.”
“And our marriage will have boundaries.”
“What boundaries?”
“You’ll learn.”
A door opened behind us.
Vanessa immediately smiled.
The wedding coordinator walked through carrying folders.
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect,” Vanessa said.
I looked at her.
For the first time, I did not doubt myself.
I knew.
The next morning, I tried to tell Dad.
I went to his room at the hotel.
Marcus was there.
So were two groomsmen.
Everyone was laughing while Dad searched for a cuff link.
He saw me.
“There she is.”
I walked in.
He held out his hand.
I took it.
“You okay?”
I looked at everyone.
Not here.
“Yeah.”
He crouched slightly.
“You sure?”
I nodded.
He studied me.
“Come back in twenty minutes.
Just you and me.”
“Okay.”
Twenty minutes later, I returned.
That was when he gave me the bouquet.
White roses with tiny blue flowers.
“Vanessa approved blue?”
I asked.
Dad smiled.
“She didn’t pick these.”
“You did?”
“I had help.”
He tied the blue ribbon around the stems.
Badly.
I laughed.
He pretended to be offended.
“Master craftsmanship.”
“It’s crooked.”
“Art is subjective.”
For ten minutes, everything felt normal.
Then someone knocked.
The wedding coordinator told Dad the photographer needed him in the ballroom.
He hugged me.
“You wait right outside.
I’ll come get you before we line up.”
“Promise?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Promise.”
That promise was why, thirty minutes later, I refused to leave when Vanessa brought security.
It was also why my father happened to return to that hallway before the ceremony.
He had forgotten the handwritten card he planned to read to me.
And when he came back to get it, he heard Vanessa tell me that after the wedding I would no longer be part of his family.
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