I stepped back into the grand reception hall. Soft music filled the air as guests laughed and waiters navigated the crowd carrying crystal champagne flutes. Suspended right above the center of the room was the massive floral arch I had spent the entire morning crafting—white roses, gardenias, and baby’s breath.
They were the exact blossoms Adrian and I had handpicked for our own intended wedding day.
For a fleeting second, a sharp tightness gripped my chest. I forced myself to take a steady breath just as the event coordinator hurried toward me. “There you are! Is everything alright with the floral setup?”
“Perfect,” I replied with a tight smile. It was the first lie I had ever uttered with a smile on my face.
As the coordinator rushed off, the double doors leading to the groom’s suite swung open. Julian—Adrian’s older brother—stepped out in a sharply tailored dark suit. He looked precisely as I remembered him, except his complexion was drained of color.
The moment his eyes met mine, he froze. All the warmth vanished from his face.
That was the exact instant it clicked: Julian knew. He had been aware all along.
He walked toward me with hesitant steps. “Meredith…”
“Three months ago,” I said, my voice dropping to a harsh whisper, “I stood beside your mother while they lowered my fiancé into the ground.”
Julian squeezed his eyes shut. “Meredith, please. You shouldn’t be here.”
“And now your brother is upstairs,” I continued, ignoring his plea. “What is going on, Julian?”
