Mom stood.
“She said she doesn’t want to talk right now.”
He looked past her.
“Natalie, you’re throwing away three years.”
I wiped my cheeks.
“I’m not the one who did that.”
He shook his head.
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.”
Despite everything, happy memories returned.
Seth had once driven two hours to repair my father’s porch, brought me soup when I had the flu, and held my hand the night my grandmother died.
Those moments had been genuine.
That only made it harder to reconcile them with his behavior now.
Reverend Thomas asked him to leave us alone.
This time, he complied.
Minutes later, the chapel music stopped.
I heard murmuring, shifting chairs, and Reverend Thomas speaking into the microphone.
He announced the ceremony was canceled, apologized for the inconvenience, and requested privacy.
He offered no explanation.
I appreciated his discretion.
Guests began departing.
