The moment the car door opened, a wall of light hit me.

Cameras flashed in rapid bursts, a staccato rhythm that made the night glitter unnaturally bright. Reporters shouted questions, their voices tangled together into a roar. Nate stepped out first, tall, composed, his jaw set like marble. He turned, offering me his hand.

I hesitated. Just a second. But the pause was enough for another round of flashes to explode, for the whispers to ripple through the crowd— is she nervous? is the bride ...