Delaney
The morning of the wedding arrived bright and ordinary, exactly the way she'd wanted it, no symbolic anniversary weight, no crisis waiting in the wings, just an open Saturday in September that had somehow become the most important day of her entire life.
"You're not allowed to cry yet," Carol said, fussing with the last pin in Delaney's hair, her own eyes already suspiciously bright. "We agreed. Crying starts during the vows, not before."
"I'm not crying. I'm sweating from nerves. Entirely different category of moisture."
"Sure." Carol smoothed the veil, stepping back to look at her daughter properly, something fierce and proud crossing her face. "You look exactly like the version of yourself I always hoped you'd become. Not because of the dress. Because of the way you're stand
