She was right.
I called Ethan and asked him to come to the second suite. He arrived twenty minutes later, still dressed in the dark trousers and white shirt he had worn to the rehearsal dinner, with his overnight bag slung over one shoulder.
The moment he saw the photograph, the color drained from his face.
“Where did you get this?”
“Vanessa left it in my room.”
He sat down slowly.
“I can explain.”
“Then explain.”
He looked at the picture again.
“October 3. She asked me to meet her because she said you were considering postponing the wedding. She told me you were having doubts and didn’t want to hurt me.”
“And you believed her?”
“I believed you might be struggling. I didn’t believe you wanted to leave me.”
“Why was your hand under hers?”
He closed his eyes.
“She was crying. She said she had ruined our friendship by telling me how she felt. I was trying to get her to let go of my hand.”
