Vivienne's POV
The room was exactly what we had chosen it for.
High ceilings. Tall windows. The afternoon light coming through at the angle I had known it would come through when we had stood in this room together and Charles had looked at it and said this is it without deliberating.
The flowers were right.
Lyla's work. Not announcing themselves. Just present in the way the right things were present, adding to the quality of the room without competing with it.
The people were right.
Not many. We had not wanted many. The people who were here were people who had earned their place in the story by being present through the actual texture of it rather than showing up for the occasion.
I stood outside the entrance to the room.
My mother beside me.
My dress exactly what it had promised
