THE VENUE
It was finally the day of the wedding—Chloe’s wedding.
The venue, a sprawling botanical garden on the outskirts of the city, was decorated with a level of opulence that only the Kingstons could afford. White roses and hydrangeas cascaded from every archway, crystal chandeliers hung from the high glass ceilings of the reception hall, and a string quartet played soft, classical melodies that drifted on the wind.
It should have been a fairytale. For anyone else, it would be. But for me, walking through the crowd of high-society guests in a dress Eric had bought for me, it felt like walking through a minefield.
I had left Eric’s side near the champagne tower, telling him I needed to use the powder room. But that was a lie. I needed to see her. I needed to see my best friend befor
