The whispers started instantly.
Is that Rebecca?
Who’s that with her?
Is that Julian Ashford?
Did they come on a private jet?
I stood taller.
Garrett’s wedding planner hurried over in confusion because he had only put my name on the guest list, not the twins, not any guests. Julian spoke in that quiet, effortless way powerful men do when they never need to raise their voices.
“I’m sure something can be arranged.”
It was.
Inside, even Patricia smiled when she saw me.
Then the ceremony began.
Garrett walked to the altar full of confidence—until he looked toward the back and saw me.
Saw the children.
Saw Julian.
I watched shock rip through him, followed by anger, then calculation.
Good.
Tessa came down the aisle radiant and oblivious, and for the first time in years I felt no jealousy. Only pity. She still had time to escape.
The ceremony moved on, but Garrett kept glancing back at me, distracted, unsettled. His voice shook slightly during the vows.
Afterward, at cocktail hour, he approached.
“You came,” he said.
“You invited me.”
His eyes flicked to Julian. “I didn’t know you were bringing anyone.”
“You said the kids should see both parents moving forward. This is what moving forward looks like.”
Julian offered his hand. “Julian Ashford. Pleasure.”
Garrett recognized the name. I watched it hit him.
“How long?” he asked.
