The cool October air smelled of damp leaves and sour wine leaking from the trash.
A waiter hurried past carrying a bag of empty bottles. When he noticed my name card, he stopped.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he whispered. “I can ask someone—”
“No,” I said softly. “Thank you.”
Then Vanessa appeared.
She wore a fitted lace gown and a smile sharp enough to cut through ribbon. Several bridesmaids lingered behind her, pretending not to listen.
“Oh, good,” Vanessa said. “You found it.”
I looked at the chair, then back at her.
“This is my seat?”
She tilted her head.
“Well, we had limited space inside. And honestly, Margaret, you’ve never really supported us.”
My chest tightened.
“I paid for the rehearsal dinner.”
“And reminded everyone you did,” she replied, although I had never mentioned it.
Through the glass doors, I could see Daniel laughing with his college friends.
