The Roses Wilted at Dusk Chapter 13
On the wedding day, I was setting up a small photography exhibition in the gallery at my new company.
My phone was on silent, buried at the bottom of my
toolbox.
Ten a.m., hang the prints.
Eleven, adjust the lighting.
Noon, eat a bowl of tomato soup.
One p.m., the gallery opened, and the first group of
visitors came in.
I stood in the corner and watched them pause before the images, whispering, taking photos.
It was quiet.
Normal.
At one forty-five, Marlowe called.
I hesitated, then answered.
“Boss, something happened at the wedding.”
“What happened?”
“Dashiell Lockwood broke down before the rehearsal.” /
I leaned against the wall and waited.
“The coordinator handed him the final vow card in the groom’s suite to review one last time. He read the first
line and froze.”
“What first line?”
“The one you wrote. The coordination team didn’t swap it out. They were still using your final draft.”
“He got to ‘From the day I met you’ and couldn’t keep going.”
I closed my eyes.
I had written that line for him.
“Then what?”
“Then he walked out to the ceremony space and tore up the vow card.”
Marlowe’s voice was very low, but she could not hide the
tremor in it.
“In front of Tamsin Calder and both sets of parents. He just tore it up.”
Someone in the gallery was looking at a seascape photograph.
It showed a coastline at dusk, the horizon wrapped in a halo of light, extremely calm and peaceful.
I stared at it.
“How did Tamsin Calder react?”
“Her face looked awful, but she didn’t lose it on the spot. Dashiell Lockwood’s father stood up and said he was
being ridiculous, told him to apologize immediately and continue the walkthrough.”
“And Dashiell?”
“He said he couldn’t read it.”
Marlowe paused.
“His voice was really hoarse. He probably hadn’t slept all night.”
“He said, “This wasn’t written by me for Tamsin Calder.””
I said nothing.
Marlowe continued.
“The whole place went silent. Tamsin’s father asked what
he meant.”
“Dashiell stood near the ceremony table, looking at the white roses. Suddenly he said, the white roses aren’t hers, Clair de Lune isn’t hers, and this date isn’t hers either.”
My fingers slowly tightened.
“He said this wedding, from beginning to end, was never prepared for Tamsin Calder.”
“He said only today did he realize that every step forward he took was trampling on Audra Ellison’s dream.”
