Chapter 45 The Wedding
The church smelled like old wood and lilies, sunlight filtering through the stained-glass windows in soft, colored fragments. Everything was calm. Peaceful. Exactly the kind of day Payton deserved.
I stood to her left as one of her bridesmaids, hands folded around my bouquet, watching her hold Thomas’s hands.
In this life, I wasn’t Payton’s maid of honor.
Mia was.
She stood just a step closer to Payton, attentive. Moments before the ceremony began, she had leaned in, gently straightening the edge of Payton’s veil. She gave Payton’s hand a brief squeeze before stepping back into place.
Payton had smiled at her, grateful.
In my last life, when we all went to UVU, Mia had joined our circle later. Friendly. Eager. She and Payton had grown close quickly. She had wanted to be Payton’s only best friend, and there had been friction when I was chosen as maid of honor instead of her.
In this life, circumstances shifted. I was still friends with Payton, but Mia had become the one she leaned on most. The one who knew the seating chart by heart. The one who handled the last-minute details without being asked.
I didn’t resent it.
Payton looked radiant. Genuinely happy.
She and Thomas had met the same way they had in my last life. A shared class. A group project that turned into late study sessions. Coffee that became dinner. Friendship that turned into love.
“When I look at you,” Thomas said, “I see my future…”
As he spoke, I studied his face. He looked certain. In love. Not confused. Not haunted by doubts that didn’t belong to him.
My mind slipped back to the moment a week earlier when I had asked him, almost casually, if he had been hearing from me. I had been leaning against the counter while Payton was out of the room, trying to sound offhand.
“Have you been getting any strange messages?” I asked.
He frowned. “Yeah. Why?”
“Can I see them?”
He pulled out his phone and showed me the messages.
I let out a quiet, annoyed breath.
“That is not me. Someone is pretending to be me. You are not the only one. I do not know what their goal is, but you are not the target. I am.”
He stared at me, processing. “Someone is pretending to be you?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The police are already involved,” I said, the lie coming easily. “Block the number. Do not respond. And if anything else comes in, tell me right away.”
He exhaled slowly. “The messages did feel off. We have barely talked, and you suddenly reaching out did not make sense.”
In my past life, Thomas and I had been friends. We had gone to UVU together, spent time in the same circles. In this life, we had only crossed paths in groups a handful of times.
The present snapped back into place.
“By the power vested in me,” the priest said, “I now pronounce you husband and wife. Thomas Hale and Payton Hale. You may kiss the bride.”
Applause filled the church. Payton laughed through tears as Thomas kissed her.
I felt something loosen in my chest.
This time, there was no interruption. This was how it was supposed to go.
As they turned toward the guests, my gaze drifted to the groomsmen. Nick stood among them, watching the couple with an easy smile, genuine happiness softening his face.
Then his eyes met mine.
He smiled.
I smiled back.
Afterward, the crowd spilled into the aisle in a warm rush of movement. There were hugs and laughter and the kind of tears that came from happiness. Payton wrapped her arms around me tightly.
“I can’t believe this is real,” she cried. “Everything went perfectly.”
“It really did,” I told her.
The reception was held in Payton’s parents’ backyard, transformed into something that looked lifted straight from a magazine spread.
White tents stretched across the lawn, their fabric glowing softly in the late afternoon light.
Strings of warm bulbs crisscrossed above the dance floor, already coming alive as the sun dipped lower.
Music drifted through the air. Laughter. The easy clink of glasses. People moved without hurry, relaxed, celebratory.
I had barely accepted a glass of champagne when Marissa appeared at my side.
To anyone watching, she looked like a concerned, loving mother reunited with her daughter after a long absence.
“Ashley,” she said warmly. “Mom missed you so much while you were away.”
I met her eyes, unreadable.
“Where are you staying?” she continued. “Why didn’t you come home? I’ve been so worried about you.”
I watched the performance with detached calm. No one here knew she wasn’t my real mother, and she intended to keep it that way at all costs.
“I’ve been fine,” I said. “I have my own place now.”
In truth, I’d been staying at a hotel for the past weeks. Wedding events, rehearsals, dinners. It had been easier to keep my distance.
She smiled, patting my arm as if soothing a child. “Still, you know you always have a home.”
Before I could reply, my father joined us, drink in hand. He looked genuinely happy to see me.
“There you are,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “I’ve been telling everyone about you.”
I stiffened slightly.
“She just graduated from MIT,” he continued, turning to a group of his business friends nearby. “Cum laude. Brightest mind in the room, if you ask me.”
I shot him a look. “Dad.”
He laughed. “What? I’m proud. I should be.”
The men nodded appreciatively, murmuring congratulations. One of them asked if I was planning to join the family business.
“She doesn’t want to,” my father said quickly, though his eyes flicked to me, hopeful. “But I keep telling her the door’s always open.”
I smiled politely. Noncommittal.
Across the lawn, I caught sight of Apple. She stood near the bar, posture perfect, expression sharp. She hadn’t finished school. She hadn’t been expelled publicly, but everyone here knew she’d dropped out. Watching our father praise me clearly tasted bitter.
Before Apple could come over, the music shifted. The emcee announced Payton and
Thomas’s first dance.
Applause rippled through the crowd as they stepped onto the dance floor beneath the fairy lights. Payton was radiant, one hand resting against Thomas’s chest, the other curled in his. They moved together easily, laughing when they missed a step, foreheads touching as if no one else existed.
It was right. The way it was supposed to be.
When the song ended and the applause faded, someone stepped into my space.
Nick.
“Dance with me,” he said, already holding out his hand. Not a question.
I hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded and placed my hand in his.