When the coordinator called to let us know it was time, my dad offered me his arm. Emily arranged my bouquet. The chapel doors opened to reveal a room full of people, beaming with joy, cameras raised to capture the moment.
At the front of the room, Ethan stood at the altar, just as he had always imagined our wedding day.
Sure. Peaceful. Completely silent.
He smiled as he saw me approaching.
That smile cost him everything he was about to lose.
At the altar
We got through the beginning of the ceremony. Prayer. Welcome. There was even a little laughter among the guests at something the officiant had said.
At one point, Ethan squeezed my hand and I kept my face completely still.
Then came the votes.
The officiant turned first to Ethan.
He reached into his jacket pocket, unfolded a small piece of paper, cleared his throat, and began.
"Claire, from the moment I met you..."
"Enough."
