I heard the murmurs.
Saw the sideways glances toward my gown.
My confidence unraveled with every step.
Thread by thread.
Then my aunt Tracy stood up.
Bold red dress. Matching lipstick. Voice sharp enough to cut glass.
“So you snagged yourself a rich husband… why didn’t he buy you a real dress?” she snapped.
“Walking around in rags from a thrift store?”
A few people laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
My cheeks burned.
My hands trembled around my bouquet.
I wanted to disappear.
And then I saw movement in the front row.
Liliana stood up.
The room went silent.
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