Chloe hoped that was true.
The wedding day arrived.
Her sisters came early.
Maya, now fifteen years older than the baby who had been left behind, helped with flowers.
The oldest sister cried before anyone else did.
Their father stood outside the bridal room wearing a suit that looked slightly too formal for him.
When Chloe stepped out in her dress, he froze.
Then covered his mouth.
“Dad?”
“You look like your mother.”
The room went still.
He immediately shook his head.
A man with a bigger house, better vacations, expensive restaurants, and the kind of life she had apparently decided she deserved more than the one she already had.
Their father never told the girls that.
Not then.
He simply said:
“Your mom needs some time.”
When they asked how much time, he said:
