PROLOGUE
I can’t takemy eyes off the scene.
Even though I know I’ll regret it, self-destruction takes over and my steps slow between the trees.
The sun shines down, its warm glow like a halo, illuminating those it touches. The scent on the breeze is one of tropical flowers. Light, soapy, lending a sense of magic and anticipation to the air. The music flowing through the trees is smooth, each ivory pressed note calling out like an invitation to step into its inner folds. To where love and family connect.
A wedding.
I maintain my distance.
But I keep watching.
The bride walks through the trees, dressed in a silver-hued gown, her bouquet glittering in a way flowers wouldn’t, like it’s made from jewels instead.
Her gaze slides from the older man accompanying her and lands straight on mine. She falters while I stare back. Desperate and greedy. A hungry dog starving for scraps.
I focus on her face, so full of hope and joy, and the serene smile, aimed at me for the briefest fraction of a second before she turns back to the man and signals she’s ready to continue.
Ready to join her love. Take her vows.
Be welcomed into a family.
My chest burns.
“Just keep fucking walking,” I mutter, continuing my route through the trees that line the edge of the beach.
It’s self-torturing, but as I pass closer to the ceremony, I look again anyway.
I’m an outsider, stealing a slice of their happiness for myself.
A sliver of their peace.
My gaze lands on the white carpeted aisle. A small girl walks alongside the maid of honor, flinging petals from a basket. Her palms are dark, like she’s got paint or pen on them.
Each guest in the silver Chiavari chairs settles into a collective hum of adoration as she passes them, before their attention turns to the bride.
I lean against a trunk, resigning myself to the fact I’m going to watch even though I know I shouldn’t.
Just one more minute.
The little girl runs to a man in a tuxedo and is swept up into his arms. She hugs him, and he sinks his face into her dark curls like he treasures every single embrace he gets with her.
She moves back.
My heart doesn’t stop. It fucking vaporizes.
It’s him.
He has a daughter.
He has a daughter, and I had no fucking idea.
The dryness in my throat spreads through my body until I could disappear into a puff of dust.
He has a daughter. And he’s getting married.
The tree trunk supports my weight as I sag against it, waiting for the moment the bride locks eyes with him.
