My dad arrives at the hotel after taking three bus rides from the town two hours before the wedding starts.

He's wearing the old suit that he has kept for the past ten or so years. The cuffs have gone white from all the washing, and his shoes shine brightly from all the polishing.

Before entering, Dad has specifically pinned the red boutonniere to his chest several times while looking at his reflection in the glass of the hotel's main entrance just so he can get it right. After all, it symbolizes his status as the bride's father.

When Dad is about to take his seat, he grasps the card that shows his seat as he approaches my future husband, Elliott Chambers, tentatively.

"Elliott, there seems to be a mistake with my seat."

Elliott merely glances at the card before pushing it back to Dad.

"Your seat is correct. There are limited spots at the main table, so you'll have to sit at a spare table at the back."

Dad is stunned by Elliott's answer.

"But it says here that I'm meant to sit at the main table…"

Elliott frowns at Dad.

"This is a last-minute adjustment. The shareholders and important clients of Chambers Corp will be attending my wedding today. Not everyone gets to sit at the main table."

Dad looks down at his old suit before he slowly stuffs the card back into his pocket. He wants to take off the boutonniere, but the pin gets stuck in the fabric of his jacket.

The more he wants to take it off, the more his hand keeps shaking.

That's when Elliott's mother, Catherine Aldridge, speaks up.

"All the seats are the same, Patrick. Don't cause any trouble for Elliott now."

Dad quickly nods in response.

"You're right. I'm fine with any seat."

Then, he picks up the old wooden chest that's sitting by his feet before heading toward the spare table that's located in the corner.

I raise my head, only to see a seating card titled "The Carvers" being placed on the most obvious spot of the main table.

At the moment, Elliott is helping Claire Carver's mother into her seat.

As for my dad, he's hugging the chest containing the wedding gifts meant for me while sitting by the kitchen door.

I was just about to go find Elliott Chambers when the wedding coordinator came hurrying over with her binder.

"Mr. Chambers, the groomsmen need to get into position."

Elliott lowered his head to adjust his cufflinks and gave a brief acknowledgment. That was when I noticed the person standing beside him wasn't Owen Reed.

It was Theo Carver, Claire Carver's younger brother, wearing a groomsman's suit with a white boutonniere pinned to his lapel.

I had placed that boutonniere in Owen's gift box myself the night before. When Owen tried on his suit, he'd been so nervous he didn't know what to do with his hands. I teased him about it, and he just held the boutonniere and looked at it for the longest time.

He told me, "I won't embarrass you tomorrow, I promise."

Now it was pinned to Theo's chest.

Theo patted the flower with an easy smile. "Looks good, right? Elliott said it suited me better."

I turned to Elliott. "Where's Owen?"

"Last-minute change."

"Why?"

"Your brother's too stiff. The guest list is all Chambers Corp shareholders and major clients, and the groomsmen need to hold their own."

I didn't look at Theo. I kept my eyes on Elliott. "So, you pulled my brother."

He lowered his voice. "The ceremony's about to start. Don't let something this small derail the schedule."

Something this small? I turned and walked to the waiting room.

Owen was sitting in the corner of the couch. The groomsman's suit was gone, and he was back in his own old white dress shirt, the cuffs slightly frayed. The moment he saw me, he jumped to his feet and hid something behind his back.

"Sadie, what are you doing here?"

I went over and pulled his hands away. The boutonniere was gone, and all that was left inside the gift box was a bent pin.

Owen kept his head down, his ears slowly turning red. "Elliott said there was a last-minute change. He told me not to go up."

He paused, then added, "It's fine, really. I was worried I'd mess it up anyway."

His voice was so quiet, like he was afraid I'd hear the hurt in it.

Theo's laugh carried in from the doorway. "Being a groomsman isn't for just anyone. You've got to actually look the part in a suit."

Owen's fingers curled at his sides.

Elliott stood by the door. He didn't look at Owen, only at me. "Theo's young. He doesn't watch what he says. Don't take it personally."

"Owen's two years younger than him," I said.

Elliott went quiet for a second, then glanced at his watch. "Sadie, it's almost time."

Owen tugged at my sleeve. "Don't. Just leave it."

His palm was damp with sweat.

Our father came rushing in, forehead glistening, an old wooden chest clutched against his body. He'd pulled the red flower off it and tucked it into his pocket so only a sliver of crimson peeked out.

"Sadie, did Owen cause trouble again?"

Owen shook his head quickly. "No, Dad."

Dad turned to Elliott with an apologetic smile. "Elliott, Owen doesn't know any better. It's perfectly fine if he doesn't go up. He can just sit in the audience."

Then he looked at me. "Sadie, today's your big day. Don't let us hold things up."

He didn't say it was because of him, or because of Owen. It was because of all of us. Because we weren't polished enough.

A hotel staff member walked in and pointed at the chest in his arms. "The groom's mother says that the chest doesn't belong in the main hall. She'd like it moved to the back."

Dad tightened his grip. "It can't be moved."

The staff member looked at Elliott, and Elliott frowned. "Take it. It's in the way."

It took Dad a moment to find his voice. "It's Sadie's hope chest."

Elliott glanced at the chipped paint on its corners. "It can wait until after the ceremony."

Dad lowered his head and slowly loosened his grip. When the staff member took it, one corner caught on the doorframe with a dull thud, and Dad's shoulders flinched with it.

After the chest was carried away, Dad stayed where he was. His arms hung empty at his sides, his fingertips rubbing absently against the seam of his trousers as if he were still holding something.

The wedding coordinator came by again. "The bride needs to touch up her makeup."

I didn't move. I turned and went after the chest instead, and Dad followed a few steps behind. He looked like he wanted to call out to me, but held himself back and just quickened his pace to keep up.

The back of the hotel was much darker than the banquet hall. The far end of the corridor was piled with discarded cardboard boxes, spare flower stands, and a few bags of damp table linens. The air smelled like alcohol, kitchen grease, and disinfectant.

The chest hadn't been left at the edge of it all so much as dumped there. A bag of wet linens sat on the lid, water dripping down the plastic and bleeding a dark stain into the wood.

Dad practically jogged over. He crouched down, moved the linens aside, and started wiping the lid with his sleeve, bit by bit.

"It's fine, it's fine," he kept saying. "Old chest. It can take a beating."

But the clasp was already bent sideways, and one corner had been chipped open. He reached out to touch the crack, caught his finger on a splinter, and a bead of blood rose almost instantly. He stared at it for a moment, then tucked his hand behind his back.

"Dad, your hand," I said.

He smiled. "It's fine."

He went back to wiping the chest, and his sleeve was soaked through before long.

I turned to the staff member standing nearby. "Who told you to put it here?"

The staff member glanced at me, then at Elliott, and stammered. "The Chambers family said the front hall was already set up and that something like this wasn't suitable to leave out."

"Something like this?"

Nobody answered.

Elliott walked over, visibly irritated. "Sadie, the ceremony is about to start."

I pointed at the chest. "This is the hope chest my dad put together for me."

He looked at Dad, then at the chest. "I know."

"You knew, and you still let them dump it back here?"

"Nobody dumped it." His voice was tight with impatience. "It was just set aside for the moment."

Dad got to his feet immediately and stepped in front of the chest. "Sadie, don't do this. It's not damaged, really."

He was afraid I'd keep going, so he turned to Elliott before I could. "Elliott, I didn't mean anything by it. The chest is old and it's not much to look at. The back is where it belongs."

He spoke so fast he nearly bit his tongue.

Elliott's expression softened slightly, but there wasn't a trace of guilt behind it. "If it bothers you, I can replace it with a new one."

The smile froze on Dad's face. He looked down at the chest and slowly pressed his palm against the clasp.

"You don't need to replace it," he said. "It's not worth anything."

Those words landed harder than the sound of the chest hitting the doorframe.

I reached out and took his wrist. His hand was cold, and still shaking.

Claire had appeared at some point. She stood next to Elliott in a pale-colored dress, her eyes faintly rimmed with red.

"Sadie, I'm sorry. Is this because my family was given seats at the main table? Are you upset about that?" Her voice was gentle yet pitched just loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"If that's the case, I can move to the back. Today is yours and Elliott's wedding. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

Elliott turned to me immediately. "Sadie, Claire didn't mean anything by it."

I didn't say a word. Dad was the one who panicked first. "No, no, nobody's getting the wrong idea. Ms. Carver, please, sit wherever you like."

Then he turned back to me and whispered, "Sadie, don't make things awkward for her."

He'd been assigned a seat by the kitchen doors and didn't bat an eye. Owen lost his place in the wedding party, and he told me not to worry about it. The chest got tossed in with the storage, and he said it wasn't worth anything.

But the thought of the Carver family feeling awkward scared him, because he was afraid of what it would mean for me in the Chambers household later.

The wedding coordinator came hurrying back with the program sheet. "Mr. Chambers, have one last look at the ceremony script."

Elliott took it. I was standing close enough to catch a line on the page, the section for thanking the parents. The names were listed clearly. The Chambers parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carver, and longtime family friend Claire Carver.

I read further down. There was no mention of Patrick Reed, my father. He was still crouched on the ground, wiping the corner of the chest, completely unaware that he'd been erased again.

I reached over and took the program sheet from Elliott's hands.

His expression went cold. "Sadie."

I pointed to the blank space and asked him, "Where's my dad's name?"

Elliott reached for the program sheet, but I didn't let go. The paper pulled taut between us with a faint crackle.

He lowered his voice. "Stop this."

"Why isn't my dad on here?"

Elliott glanced around. The staff, the makeup artist, and the coordinator were all pretending to be busy.

"This was finalized a long time ago."

"Finalized with my dad removed?"

His brow tightened. "Your dad isn't comfortable with these things. Singling him out would only make him more self-conscious."

I looked at Claire. "And her parents are comfortable with it?"

Claire's eyes went red again. "Sadie, if it bothers you, I don't have to go up. Elliott just felt that my parents have done so much for him over the years, and he's always been grateful for that..."

She trailed off and bit her lip.

Elliott immediately stepped in front of her. "Enough."

He looked at me, his voice turning cold. "We have a room full of guests out there. Do you really need to turn everything into a scene?"

Before I could answer, Dad stood up. He wiped the blood from his hand with his sleeve and tucked it behind his back.

"Sadie, stop asking." His voice was very quiet.

"If they're not going to mention me, that's fine. I don't care about that kind of thing."

He looked at me and managed a smile. "I just want you to be happy. That's enough for me."

I looked at that smile, and the words died in my throat. His sleeve was damp, there was blood on his hand, and the spot on his lapel where the red flower should have been pinned was bare, with nothing left but a tiny hole where the pin had gone through.

He was the bride's father, but he looked like the last person who was supposed to be at this wedding.

Elliott's mother, Catherine Aldridge, walked over. She glanced at the program sheet in my hand, then looked at me. The smile on her face had already cooled.

"Sadie, the ceremony is about to start." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried far enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"When you become part of a family, the most important thing you can learn is when to let things go. Your father already said he doesn't mind. Do you really want to make everyone else uncomfortable too?"

Dad nodded immediately. "I don't mind. I really don't."

He reached for my sleeve again. "Sadie, just leave it. Please don't rock the boat."

Owen stood off to the side with his fists clenched tight. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but Dad glanced at him, and Owen's shoulders slowly sank.

That was when Theo passed by and deliberately bumped Owen's shoulder.

Owen stumbled half a step. Theo looked down to adjust the boutonniere on his chest and let out a laugh. "Don't block the way. I've got to get on stage."

He was wearing the boutonniere that had been Owen's.

Owen kept his head down. His throat bobbed once, but he didn't make a sound.

I looked at the blood on the back of Dad's hand, at Owen's bare lapel, and at the program sheet that still didn't have my father's name on it. I didn't ask again. I just folded the paper, slowly, crease by crease.

Elliott must have thought I'd finally given in, because his expression relaxed. He stepped closer and dropped his voice.

"That's more like it," he said. "If there's anything to discuss, it can wait until after the wedding."

The coordinator came jogging over with the final version of the script and handed it to the emcee. I looked up and caught the bolded line across the top of the first page.

"Special thanks to Ms. Claire Carver and Mr. and Mrs. Carver."

Dad's name still wasn't there.

The lights in the hall dimmed. The emcee's voice carried in from the ballroom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the ceremony is about to begin. First, let's take a moment to recognize some very important family members who are here with us today..."

Dad straightened up instinctively. He rolled his damp cuffs inward and smoothed the wrinkles in his suit, like he was afraid he didn't look presentable enough.

But a second later, the cameraman walked past him and murmured, "Sir, could you step aside? You're in the shot of the main table."

Dad froze. He slowly backed away, one step at a time, and didn't stop until he reached the service entrance by the kitchen doors.