Every friend we'd made together over the years was there, cheering, clapping, calling out for Odette to say yes.
But Odette was in no rush. She looked down at him.
"What about Louisa?"
She tilted her head.
"Did Louisa ever get this kind of treatment?"
"You know me," she said, gazing down at Justin from above. "I don't do secondhand."
"Not even the sentiment."
Laughter rippled through the crowd.
Justin hadn't even opened his mouth yet.
Someone was already answering for him.
"Babe, what are you even worried about?"
"Back then, Justin and that woman didn't even throw a reception. They just had dinner at home. She cooked it herself, bought the groceries herself, said she didn't want to waste money, said they needed to save. We laughed about it behind her back for months."
"Some nobody from nowhere doesn't deserve our boy Justin. You and Justin are the real deal, the perfect match."
Just like that, I went from "Mrs. Simmons" to "that woman" in the mouths of Justin's friends.
And Odette went from "homewrecker" and "side piece" to the new "Mrs. Simmons."