Meghan
The church loomed ahead, a grand and ornate structure draped in white roses and delicate gold ribbons. The sight of it made my stomach churn. It was breathtaking, the kind of wedding venue little girls dream about when they imagine their big day. But as the car pulled up to the front steps, all I could feel was dread.
The driver opened my door, and I stepped out, my dress rustling around me. The train spilled onto the cobblestone like liquid silk, heavy and impossible to ignore. My father stood waiting at the foot of the steps, his broad shoulders squared and his face alight with pride.
“Meghan,” he said, his voice warm as he held out his hand to help me.
I took it, forcing a smile as I let him steady me. His touch was firm, reassuring, like it always had been.
“You look stunni
