My Own Mother Hid Her Wedding From Me, but Nothing Prepared Me for Who She Married

Then I’d be done with this place. I wanted more than this. More than late nights and cold coffee and the quiet throb of never being enough.

When I finally made it to my car and cranked the engine, the heater blasted stale air into my face. My phone rang.

“Alice!” Aunt Jenny’s voice chirped.

“Don’t forget—you’re giving me a ride to the wedding!”