Chapter 1

The officiant had barely asked Andrew if he took me as his wife when his phone rang.

He looked at the name on the screen and let go of my hands.

Three minutes later, my groom walked away from the altar in front of 186 guests. He bent down and kissed my forehead before leaving.

“Ivy needs me tonight. You’ll still be here tomorrow.”

Our photographer caught it all: Andrew heading for the side door while I stood alone beside the officiant in an eight-thousand-dollar wedding gown.

“What happened to Ivy?” I followed him into the aisle.

“Her launch is falling apart. Her lead model quit, and two buyers are leaving.” Andrew loosened his tie as he checked flights. “She’s locked herself in an airport bathroom and says she won’t go back to Chicago.”

“We’re in the middle of our wedding.”

“I said I’d come back.”

He looked up, irritated, as though I were the one causing trouble.

“This is Ivy’s first bridal collection. I promised Caleb before he died that I’d look after her. You know what that promise means to me.”

Of course I did.

For five years, whenever Andrew made a choice that hurt me, Caleb’s name appeared right on time and dressed it up as duty.

“I can have my team find a replacement model. I can send someone local to meet her.” I planned events for a living. Emergencies were my job. “You don’t have to leave.”

Andrew slipped his phone into his pocket.

“She doesn’t need an event planner. She needs me.”

Chairs scraped behind us. The guests began whispering. Andrew’s mother rose from the front pew and caught his sleeve.

“At least finish the ceremony.”

“Mom, don’t make me choose today.” He pulled away and turned to me. “Natalie, you know what Ivy has been through. Don’t make me worry about you while I’m trying to help her.”

Help her.

I was expected to stand still.

Outside the chapel, the white town car meant to take us to the reception waited at the curb. A silver JUST MARRIED sign hung from the back.

Andrew climbed in and told the driver to take him to the airport.

He even took our wedding car.

When the door closed, my mother came to my side and reached for my veil. “We can call it a family emergency. We’ll send everyone to the hotel and finish the ceremony when Andrew comes back.”

“How long will he be gone?”

She looked away. “That isn’t the most important thing right now.”

At thirty-five, starting over meant counting rent, savings, clients, and how quickly your parents might recast your humiliation as a misunderstanding.

I had spent six years cleaning up the messes Andrew and Ivy left behind.

I wasn’t doing it today.

I removed my veil and returned to the altar. The best man had gone pale. I took the microphone from him.

“The wedding is off.”

The whispers stopped.

“The reception is paid for. You’re welcome to stay for dinner. If you want to know where Andrew went, ask him. I won’t invent a respectable answer for him.”

My mother said my name. I returned the microphone, lifted my skirt, and walked into the bridal suite.

Only after I closed the door did my hands begin to shake.

The train of my gown spread across the floor. My mother and I had chosen the ivory silk together. She had sewn on the last row of pearls over three long evenings.

My phone buzzed twice.

The first message was from Andrew.

Don’t turn this into a spectacle. I’ll come back after Ivy’s launch. We can finish the ceremony on Sunday.

The second arrived thirty seconds later.

And keep the dress clean. Ivy’s lead model is about your size. You didn’t get to finish wearing it anyway. She may need it.