“My mother is right here.”
Judith barely glanced at her. “I meant experienced perspective.”
My mother stepped forward. “Experience doesn’t grant ownership.”
Daniel finally moved. He took the dress from Judith and handed it to Marisol.
Then he turned back.
“You are apologizing,” he said.
Judith blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You interfered, invaded, and nearly ruined our wedding. Apologize.”
“I will not be spoken to like a criminal.”
“Then don’t act like one.”
That changed everything.
Judith stiffened. “So this is how it is.”
“This is how it already is,” I said.
Marisol returned. “Dress is intact. Bride dresses in thirty-five minutes. Everyone not essential—out.”
Judith didn’t move.
Naomi stepped closer. “You heard her.”
Daniel stood firm. “You’re not coming to the bridal suite or riding with us. And if you comment on Claire’s dress again, you won’t stay for the reception.”
Judith studied him—then me.
She had lost control.
“Fine,” she said.
As she left, she paused. “Marriage reveals things.”
When she was gone, the room exhaled.
Daniel looked at me. “I’m sorry.”
I believed him.
I just wasn’t sure it was enough.
Part 3
I wore my own dress.
When Marisol zipped it up, it fit perfectly—clean, structured, exactly mine.