Chapter 8: Not Told

I reached Sunset Cove at ten to five.

Cillian had followed me down in his truck and parked beside me without a word.

"You don't have to come in," I said.

"I know."

He came in anyway and stood at the back by the doors.

The hall was full of afternoon light.

About sixty people sat in the white chairs, and the rest of the chairs stood empty behind them.

Nobody was whispering anymore.

They were just waiting.

Thurston stood at the front under the arch, in his tuxedo, with his hands at his sides.

Dad stood beside him with the microphone.

Mom sat in the front row with her head bowed.

Mara sat next to her in a short white dress.

I walked down the aisle.

I heard the gasp start at the back and travel forward, and then I was standing in front of the arch, and Dad turned around and saw me.

"Willa," he whispered. "Oh, thank God."

"Give me the microphone, please."

"Sweetheart, you don't have to."

"Please."

He gave it to me.

I turned to face the chairs.

Everyone I could see was looking at me.

Thurston's grandmother sat at the end of the second row in her lavender suit.

"Hello," I said. "I'm Willa Hartnell. I'm the bride."

My voice was steady. I was surprised.

"I want to correct something you were told a few minutes ago. I'm not unwell. I'm not under strain. The wedding isn't postponed."

I paused.

"It was never going to happen."

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