At some point, both my parents had come to stand beside me.

My mother had spent decades in business, decisive and hard-edged, the kind of woman who never let her temper reach her face. But even a saint has a breaking point, and hers had been ground down to it. She said nothing, only took my hand and patted it, quiet reassurance.

The veins stood out at my father's temple. He took the phone from my hand, his eyes rimmed red, and spoke with terrible calm.

"Guy. Nora is our only daughter. No one gets to treat her like this in front of me."

"You and Nora were together seven years before it came to this wedding. We wanted this day to go smoothly, all of us. You see it differently than we do, and we don't hold that against you. I only want one thing from you. Send the makeup artist over now. Show me you actually want to marry my daughter."

There was a long hesitation on the other end.

"Dad! Let's think of the big picture first. Help me talk Nora into getting her makeup done, and I'll head over for the pickup right away. The relatives are all here. Don't let outsiders have a laugh at us."

"After the wedding, hit me, yell at me, I'll come crawling to beg forgiveness, whatever you want!"

"Don't call me Dad."

My father hung up, the disappointment plain on his face.

I took my phone back, lowered my head, and opened the wedding-planning group chat.

"Cancel the morning-robe photos. Cancel the bride pickup segment on my end too."

The lead planner replied almost at once.

"And the rest of the schedule? Should we keep it moving as normal?"

I thought for a moment, then typed.

"Keep filming. We'll figure out the rest later."

I lifted my head.

"Dad, Mom. I don't want to just let it go."

My parents exchanged a glance.

My father stepped forward and gently wiped away my tears. He spoke first.

"Don't be afraid, Nora."

I'd heard those words for twenty-seven years. With him there, I truly had nothing to fear.

"Dad's going to go call over all a dozen of your uncles and cousins right now."

I'm an only daughter, but my father has brothers. After those brothers had produced a good ten sons between them, I arrived as the only girl in the whole Simmons family. The most doted on.

My mother pulled me into a light hug.

"Whatever you decide to do next, I'm behind you."

Then she called over the makeup artist we'd found on short notice.

"Would you do my daughter's makeup first? Not a bridal look. Just something that makes her look fresh and put-together."

She turned away to call Judith.

"It's all right that you can't come. Don't do anyone else's makeup, not one person who isn't us."

"We'll pay you all the same."

Harper cursed the cheating scum under her breath, and Chloe rubbed my back, aching for me.

The aunt who'd been overseeing the bride's send-off, who had watched the whole thing, was seething too.

"I'll go explain to our side of the family. No one gets away with bullying a person like this."

The videographer flashed me an okay, letting me know he'd caught all of it.

Guy called again. I rejected every one.

I peeled off the traditional bridal gown and changed into the white dress I always wear.

I sat down in front of the mirror.

Reading Guy's messages, I let out a scornful laugh.

"Baby, another hour and a half and I can come pick you up. Be good."

The makeup artist's hands moved over my face, dabbing and blending.

Maybe it was because things had already fallen so far. The anxiety that had gripped me from the moment I learned the celebrity makeup artist had been "handed over" to someone else, strangely, settled into calm.

The seven years with Guy played through my mind like a film.

We were college classmates.

He fell for me at first sight and came on strong.

Guy was tall and handsome, easygoing, and he had that upperclassman glow, a year ahead of me. Falling for him felt like the natural order of things.

We dated, studied together, went out together, four sweet years.

Until I graduated. We came back to Northfield to build our lives, and his adopted sister began to appear in ours more and more.

We'd go to the amusement park, and Ada would say she felt down and wanted the crispy fried crab cakes they used to eat as kids, so Guy would drop me and go buy them.

We'd celebrate an anniversary, and Ada would say her kitten was sick, so Guy would drop me and go with her to the vet.

We'd go on a trip, and Ada would turn up somewhere in the middle of it, and under Guy's doting eyes she'd take every bit of his attention until I was the one left standing alone.

I cried over it. I made scenes. And still I couldn't bring myself to let the relationship go.

He'd grin and coax me out of it, and the next time nothing ever changed.

The reason was always the same one. She's your little sister, just give in to her.

And I gave in, all the way up to now. My wedding. The celebrity makeup artist my mother paid a premium to book, and even she had to "give" the first slot to Ada and Ada's mother.

There was no elaborate bridal look to do, so the artist finished in a little over half an hour.

The sky at the horizon was already turning pale.

My brothers arrived one after another, offered me a few words of comfort, then found places to sit until the living room was packed.

The younger cousins, who'd been prepped to block the door for the bride pickup, sat there stiff and proper, faces grave.

Harper and Chloe flanked me, one on each side, like two temple guardians ready to charge into battle for me at any second.

Mom and Dad sat in the seats of honor.

Dad's face was stern; Mom smiled and told everyone to have some tea first, saying she'd be counting on all of them for what was coming, her tone as calm as if she were remarking on the fine weather.

Nora wasn't picking up and wasn't answering his texts, and unease started to creep into Guy.

But he was confident Nora loved him to death and knew how to keep up appearances, so she'd never blow up her own wedding.

He pushed that flicker of worry down and set out with the party for the bride pickup as usual.

Ada climbed into the car partway and said she wanted to come along to fetch the bride.

He opened his mouth, some instinct telling him this wasn't a good idea, but he couldn't hold out against the girl's wheedling and said yes out of habit.

The moment they reached the Simmons family villa,

the big red double-happiness characters were pasted up, the red carpet was rolled out, and yet outside the door it was dead quiet. No people, not the faintest sign of a wedding.

The feeling in his gut turned worse.

He led everyone straight through with no one to stop them, right into the Simmons living room,

and saw a room black with people,

and Nora in a plain white dress.

He knew this was bad,

and on instinct he pleaded with Nora, the softest-hearted one of all:

"Nora, what is all this? I'm here for the pickup. Come with me. The relatives are all waiting."

Ada, wearing the dazzling, radiant face the celebrity artist had poured everything into,

stepped forward in small steps and said, soft and sweet:

"Guy told the artist to do my makeup first. Are you upset, Nora? Then I'm sorry. Please don't make a fuss today. Just go with Guy first, okay?"

My brothers looked itching to step in. I waved them off and gave my dad a small nod.

Then I picked up a glass of water myself, walked forward, and did something none of them saw coming.