“What?”
I took the microphone from the stunned officiant. My fingers trembled, but not enough to stop me.
“You cannot stand here and lie to me in front of everyone,” I said.
The room fell silent.
Ethan’s face lost its color.
“Claire, what are you doing?”
I looked directly into his eyes.
“An hour ago I heard you tell Connor: ‘I never loved Claire. This baby doesn’t change anything. Vanessa is the one I want.’”
A gasp rippled through the chapel.
And then, from the third row, a woman stood up so suddenly her chair fell backward.
Vanessa.
Part 3
For a suspended second, no one moved.
Vanessa stood frozen in a dark green dress, one hand over her chest, her face pale with shock. I had met her twice before—an old “family friend,” Ethan had said. Pretty, polished, harmless. I remembered the way she hugged him a little too long at our engagement party, the time he stepped outside to take a late-night call and returned saying it was “just work.” All those small moments I had ignored hit me at once with such force that I felt nauseous.
Ethan stepped toward me, lowering his voice into a desperate whisper.
