EMILY'S POV
The wedding was over.
I woke slowly, the silk sheets cool against my skin, sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting soft gold across the unfamiliar ceiling. For a moment, I forgot where I was.
Then I turned my head and saw Ralph's side of the bed, it was empty but his pillow still held the indent of his head.
I sat up gradually, the events of yesterday crashed over me in waves. The dress. The vows. The kiss. The photograph. In fact everything was so overwhelming.
I looked down at my hand, two rings now. Engagement and union, platinum and diamonds, glittering in the morning light.
Mrs Othon-Cortez. The name felt so big to bear.
A soft knock sounded at the door, Clara peeked in. "Good morning, Mrs Othon-Cortez.”
“Mr Othon asked me to let you sleep, he's in the stud
