“Booked through next year,” Delaney said. “I already checked. Everyone’s booked. It’s wedding season.”
I watched her trying to hold it together, trying not to cry over what probably seemed like a small thing in the grand scheme of life. But it wasn’t small. It was her wedding. It mattered.
And I could help.
“I could do it.”
The words came out before I could second-guess them. Every head at the table turned toward me.
“What?” Delaney blinked.
“Well, I am a photographer. I’d love to photograph your wedding.”
Silence. Everyone staring at me.
Then Delaney’s eyes filled with tears for a different reason. “Leigh, that’s incredibly generous, but I can’t ask you to give up your summer to…”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I want to do this.” I looked around the table at all of them. “You’ve all been so welcoming. So kind. Let me do this for you. Please. Consider it a wedding gift.”
“It’s a lot of work,” Trace said carefully. “All the wedding events, not just the day itself. Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.” I looked at Delaney. “I’d be honored.”
“Oh my god.” Delaney pressed her hands to her face. “Really?”
“Really.”
She was around the table in seconds, pulling me into a hug tight enough to squeeze the air from my lungs. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
The table erupted in grateful chaos. Everyone thanking me, Trace looking relieved, Blake squeezing my arm, Gage grinning.
But across the table, Dex had gone very still.
Our eyes met, and I saw it all flash across his face. Understanding. Realization. Panic.
Eight weeks of wedding planning. Eight weeks of wedding events. Eight weeks of forced proximity with no way to avoid each other.
His jaw tightened, his hands clenching around his water glass.
He knew exactly what this meant.
So did I.
But I’d made the offer, and I wasn’t taking it back. This family needed me.Myfamily needed me. Delaney needed me. And I needed to contribute, to be useful, to have a role beyond just “the secret daughter.”
Even if it meant spending the next eight weeks pretending I didn’t notice every time Dex was in the same room.
Even if it meant torture.
The rest of dinner passed in a blur. Wedding talk dominated. Dates and times and all the events coming up. Delaney pulled out her phone, showing me her planning spreadsheet, going through everything she’d need photographs of.
Cake tasting Tuesday. Dress fitting Thursday. Venue walkthrough the following week. The list went on.
And Dex would be at most of them. Because he was family. Because they’d expect him there.
I tried to focus on Delaney’s excited chatter, tried to engage with the planning, but I was too hyperaware of Dex. He’d barely said a word since I’d offered. Just sat there, jaw tight, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else.
After dinner, I helped clear dishes. It gave me something to do with my hands, a reason to not make eye contact with anyone.
