Chapter Twenty-Two
The arch was situated in open air near the ocean, where the breeze tufted the lilies that wound through the framework. There were dark wood chairs, with cream upholstery, laid out in neat rows. The guests chatted amongst themselves, some bursting with laughter, others subdued.
Michelle Van Heerden was nowhere to be seen. Neither was DeShawn.
Adalia let out a long, low sigh and stood in the doorway of the beach house, breathing in the sweet fragrance of baking chocolate buns. Trent’s favorite. This was their day, and no one could take that away from them.
Sylvester Montclair was at home, though she’d invited him to the wedding. He’d emailed her back – though it must’ve taken work given his aversion to technology – that regrettably he was unable to attend due to an unf
