The next day, the rehearsal space wasn't overly lavish.
Champagne-colored drapes hung from the ceiling, and the lights glowed a warm, honeyed hue.
An officiant dressed like a priest stood beneath the floral arch, thumbing through cue cards.
Nico's phone rested on his knee. The screen lit up, and he looked down.
He seemed to be waiting for a message from someone, checking his phone every few minutes.
Vivienne urged him for the third time, "Nico, we should go up now."
Nico grunted, but his gaze drifted back to the phone screen.
No messages.
Rosalie's profile picture lay quietly in the chat window.
The lock screen wallpaper was a photo of her at the seaside last year, her smile bright and radiant.
When the rehearsal reached the kissing part, Vivienne stood opposite him, the light ca
