Gabriella

As Michael drove Damien and I up onto a wide driveway, the Shermans’ home glowed with golden light, reminding me of a Thomas Kincaid painting. The house spanned both directions, with a large entry in the middle.

Damien reached for my hand. “You’re stunning in that gown.”

He was dashing as ever in a custom tuxedo.

“Oh, this thing,” I said with a smile. “Just a Brandon Maxwell I had lying around.” ...