Chapter 6: Bridal Shower

I let Dominic hear it on Thursday night, in the parked truck behind the store, with the engine off.

He listened to the whole six minutes with his eyes closed.

When it was over, a muscle moved in his jaw.

"That's my brother," he said.

"I know."

"And that's a girl who has practiced being sweet for a very long time."

"She's been practicing since we were fifteen."

He opened his eyes.

"Don't play it for my mother."

"I won't play it for anyone yet," I said. "I'm going to use a piece of it first."

On Saturday, Constance hosted my bridal shower at the country club, in a room full of white roses and forty women in pastel dresses.

Brooke had planned all of it.

There were little cards with advice for the bride, a cake shaped like a stack of suitcases and a pink banner that said She Said Yes.

I sat in a wicker chair at the head of the room and opened gifts.

A set of towels.

A silver tray.

A toaster with a note from Preston's aunt that said Every home needs one.

Brooke sat beside me with a clipboard, writing down who gave what.

"You're doing so well," she whispered. "Everyone loves you."

"I have the best help."

She squeezed my knee under the table.

When the last box was open, Constance stood to thank everyone.

I stood up too.

"May I say something?"

The room turned.

I held my glass in my left hand and my phone in my right, hidden against my skirt.

"I want to thank the person who has made this whole day possible," I said. "My maid of honor. My oldest friend."

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