“Enough.”
He placed his hands on my shoulders.
I thought he was moving me aside so another couple could pass.
Then he gave me a shove.
Small.
Petty.
Careless.
My heel slid against wet stone.
I reached for him.
Missed.
Then fell backward.
The fountain water was freezing.
My head went under for half a second.
When I came up, gasping,
the first thing I heard was laughter.
Then applause.
Actual applause.
Some guests thought Victor had staged it.
He stood above me looking surprised for perhaps one second.
Then he smiled because everyone else was smiling.
That was the moment.
Not the water.
Not the ruined dress.
Not even the laughter.
The smile.
My father saw me sitting in freezing water and chose the audience.
Something inside me became very quiet.
I climbed to my feet.
Water ran from my hair.
My dress clung to my legs.
Victor finally reached toward me.
“Evelyn, come on. Don’t make this dramatic.”
I looked at him.
“Remember this.”
His smile faded.
“What?”
“This exact moment.”
Then I climbed out without taking his hand.
I walked through the ballroom dripping water across polished stone.
Nobody laughed anymore.
I had packed a second dress.
That sounds strangely prophetic.
It wasn’t.
Maren’s wedding schedule lasted almost
