I returned home two days ahead of schedule, thinking I would surprise my boyfriend—only to find my backyard shining with wedding lights. My best friend stood there in a white dress, holding his hands beneath an arch built from flowers I had chosen. “What is this?” I whispered. He went pale, but she smiled. “You weren’t supposed to be home yet.” I swallowed my tears, lifted my phone, and said, “Perfect—then none of you know what I did before walking in.”
The wedding had already begun when I walked through the back gate of my own house. Two hundred white candles shimmered across the lawn, and the man who had kissed me goodbye three days before was standing beneath an arch made from the roses I had ordered for our anniversary, holding my best friend’s hands.
For one heartbeat, everyone froze.
Then Ethan’s mother lowered her champagne glass and smiled.
