When Daniel passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack, it was Noah who hugged me first.
“You still have me,” he whispered.
I believed him.
So when his wedding day arrived, I showed up early. Not to claim honor—just to exist in the space that mattered. Noah was marrying a brilliant young attorney named Emily Carter.
She was warm, composed, and remarkably capable of lighting up a room with a smile. She’d always been polite to me, comfortable around me, even kind when the mood invited it. I never felt like I was in the way. Not until that morning.
Emily approached me, her smile gentle but editorial, careful, rehearsed.
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