“I want you right beside me.”

For the first time that morning, a small smile appeared on her face.

Renee returned with the lavender dress.

June hesitated before accepting it.

“Are you sure?”

“Completely.”

We returned to the bridal suite.

I helped her get dressed.

Her fingers struggled with the tiny pearl buttons, and she kept looking at me as though expecting me to say we’d made a mistake.

Once she was ready, I adjusted the lavender ribbon around her waist.

“You look beautiful.”

Her smile grew slightly.

Laurel appeared in the doorway.

“Paige? The officiant is ready. Colin’s already waiting at the altar.”

“I need you to pause the ceremony.”

Laurel looked surprised.

“Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

“Would a few minutes help?”

I glanced at June.

Then at the wedding ring resting inside its velvet box on the dressing table.

“No,” I answered. “A few minutes won’t solve this.”

Laurel studied my expression.

Then she nodded.

“I understand.”

Outside, the chapel doors opened.

Guests began taking their seats.

The musicians started the processional.

June reached for my hand.

“Mom? What are we doing?”

I looked down.

“Something I should’ve done as soon as I learned the truth.”

Together, we approached the chapel.

Colin waited at the far end of the aisle.

He smiled when he noticed us.

He clearly assumed I’d agreed to let June participate.

But I stopped at the entrance and faced Laurel.

“Please stop the music.”

Chapter 5 — The Wedding That Never Happened

The music ended abruptly.

Seventy-five guests turned toward the chapel entrance.

For a moment, everyone froze.

Colin’s smile vanished.

Confusion crossed his face as he stepped away from the altar.

June squeezed my hand.

“Mom?”

I leaned toward her.

“Whatever happens, remember one thing.”

She looked up.

“This is my choice. Not yours.”

Then I addressed everyone.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice trembled.

I’d imagined standing before these people countless times.

Never like this.

“The wedding won’t be happening today.”

Someone gasped.

A chair scraped across the floor.

“I know many of you traveled here, and I’m sorry. But I’ve made a decision I can’t reverse.”

I swallowed.

“Thank you for coming. Please respect our privacy.”

That was enough.

I wouldn’t explain Colin’s conversation with my daughter to seventy-five strangers and relatives.

June deserved better than having her feelings exposed publicly.

Colin reached us before we could leave.

“Paige, what are you doing?”

“Not here.”

“You’re calling off our wedding?”

“Yes.”

He glanced around and lowered his voice.

“Because of a seating arrangement?”

I met his eyes.

“This was never about a chair.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You already know.”

His face flushed.

“Can we discuss this somewhere private?”

“We already did.”

“That barely counted as a conversation.”

June tightened her grip on my hand.

Colin noticed.

His expression softened.

“June, sweetheart, why don’t you sit with Beth for a moment?”

She moved closer to me.

I answered.

“She’s staying here.”

Colin looked frustrated.

“Paige, please. You’re embarrassing us.”

“Then stop discussing this in front of everyone.”

He glanced behind him.

His mother stood beside the front pew, looking confused.

Beth held Harper’s hand.

Marcus remained near the altar with our wedding rings.

Everyone had arrived expecting a celebration.

I’d planned every detail.

The cake. The flowers. The music.

The place cards displaying our names in gold.

I understood exactly how much money we’d lose.

But I also understood what June had been expected to sacrifice to make everything appear perfect.

Colin reached for my arm.

“Come into the hallway. We can work this out.”

I gently moved away.

“Please let go.”

He released me.

We entered an adjoining room, Renee following close behind.

June remained beside me.

Once the door closed, Colin spoke immediately.

“Alright. Fine. June can escort you. We’ll seat her in front and add her back to the photographs.”

I stared.

“She can even stand beside us during the vows if that’s what you want.”

“Colin.”

“What?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“What else am I supposed to do?”

I glanced at June.

She was staring at the floor.

My beautiful daughter, wearing the dress she’d dreamed about for months, stood between two adults struggling to hold back tears.

And Colin continued treating everything like a small scheduling error.

“You made my daughter believe she needed to matter less so I could be happy.”

He frowned.

“I never said those exact words.”

“But that’s what she believed.”

“Children are sensitive, Paige.”

“She’s eleven.”

“Exactly. She’s young. She probably misunderstood my intentions.”

I shook my head.

“She understood enough to take off her favorite dress.”

His expression shifted.

For a second, I hoped he’d finally understood.

Instead, he turned toward June.

“June, I’m sorry if you misunderstood what I meant.”

Something inside me became clear.

Nothing shattered.

Everything simply settled.

Like a door quietly closing.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

Colin faced me.

“Do what?”

“Blame her for how you explained yourself.”

He opened his hands.

“I’m apologizing.”

“No. You’re suggesting she misunderstood.”

Renee stepped closer to June.

Colin sighed.

“Paige, I’m making an effort.”

“I can see that.”

“Then let me fix this.”

I glanced toward the chapel.

I remembered the vows we’d intended to exchange.

Trust.

Honesty.

Creating a family together.

Then I faced him.

“You can correct a seating chart, Colin. But you can’t undo what you’ve taught June about where she belongs in my life.”

He fell silent.

I removed my engagement ring.

His gaze followed my fingers.

“Paige, please don’t.”

I placed it on the nearby table.

“I’m not marrying you.”

Neither of us spoke for several seconds.

Then Colin asked, “You’re really giving up three years because of this?”

I wanted to remind him of those three years when I’d believed he genuinely loved June.

How she’d cried with happiness when he gave her a small toolbox for her tenth birthday.

How she’d saved photographs of the three of us on her phone.

But I remained silent.

He remembered those moments.

Yet he’d still made his choices.