“It isn’t no one. It’s Amalie.”
“What?”
Tyson pushed out a long breath. “Amalie and I spent a lot of time in that chapel. It’s… ugh, it’s going to sound stupid and childish to you, but that was our place. I’m kind of hoping she’s still going there. No, not hoping, I know she is.”
Alex’s anger deflated. “She told me you guys were close, but I…”
“Hadn’t noticed?” Tyson shook his head. “Of course you wouldn’t. You were lost in your own world with your art and Edmund and then Etta. But I had Amalie. Even though I knew one day you’d take her from me. That she was always meant to marry you. For a little while, I had her. She’s my best friend.” He smirked. “She’s my Edmund.”
Alex draped an arm around Tyson’s shoulders, knowing Amalie was much more than just a friend to Tyson. She’d told him
