Chapter 1
Emma lifted the bouquet and walked from the bridal alcove toward the open ballroom.
Guests turned.
The music swelled.
At the far end of the aisle stood Ryan in a black tuxedo, nervous and hopeful, his eyes fixing on her the way a good man’s eyes do when he still believes the room is safe.
Emma stopped at the edge of the aisle.
That was her third mistake.
She stopped because her body knew what her mouth would not say.
She was still in love with a ghost.
The guests noticed.
Ryan noticed.
A flicker of confusion crossed his face.
But before anyone could move, the main ballroom doors opened behind the crowd.
Slowly.
Heavily.
The music kept playing for one more second.
Then died.
Every head turned.
A soldier stood in the doorway.
Dust still clung to his dress uniform.
His shoulders looked worn by travel and something worse.
His face looked thinner.
Older.
But not dead.
Noah.
For one impossible second, no one breathed.
The room did not gasp all at once.
It tightened.
Like the entire wedding had just been grabbed by the throat.
Emma turned.
The bouquet shook in her hands.
Her face lost color so fast it looked like the dress had stolen it.
Ryan followed her gaze.
Then he saw the man in uniform.
Then he looked back at Emma.
And in that one glance, he understood enough to be destroyed by it.
Noah did not march forward.
May you like
He did not shout.
He did not accuse.
