Chapter 1: The Bouquet
The first thing Brielle destroyed at her wedding wasn't the marriage.
It was a bouquet made by a seventy-three-year-old woman who had spent six weeks making every paper flower by hand.
Evelyn stood beneath the ballroom chandeliers with both hands extended, smiling as though she were offering something priceless.
In a way, she was.
The Georgia ballroom glowed with warm afternoon sunlight pouring through tall windows. White roses climbed the centerpieces. Gold-rimmed plates reflected the light. A five-tier wedding cake stood proudly on a separate table near the dance floor, its ivory frosting decorated with delicate sugar flowers.
At the center of it all stood Brielle.
Twenty-eight. Sleek updo. White satin gown fitted perfectly to her figure.
Diamond earrings. A smile that had looked flawless in every photograph taken that morning.
Until she saw the bouquet.
Evelyn's fingers trembled slightly.
She had made it from cream, blush, and pale lavender paper, twisting the stems around thin wooden sticks and wrapping them with a strip of lace from an old tablecloth.
She had told Isaiah she wanted Brielle to have something nobody else in the room could buy.
Now she held it out.
"Here you go, sweetheart," Evelyn said softly.
"I made it myself.""
Brielle stared at the flowers.
Then she laughed.
Not a nervous laugh.
Not an embarrassed laugh.
A sharp, dismissive laugh that carried farther than she probably intended.
Several guests turned.
Evelyn's smile faded.
Brielle looked at the bouquet again.
"You brought these cheap things to my wedding?""
The ballroom went quiet.
Evelyn blinked.
"Cheap?""
"I mean..."" Brielle glanced around, lowering her voice as though she were trying to spare Evelyn embarrassment.
"They're paper.""
"I know they're paper," Evelyn said.
"I have a real bouquet.""
Brielle lifted one hand toward the floral arrangement waiting on a nearby table. Hundreds of white roses had been flown in that morning.
Evelyn swallowed.
"I thought you might keep these.""
Brielle's expression hardened.
"You thought I'd carry these?""
"I thought you might want something from me.""
For one second, Brielle said nothing.
Then she took the bouquet from Evelyn's hands.
Evelyn's face brightened.
It lasted less than a heartbeat.
Brielle dropped the bouquet.
The paper flowers scattered across the polished floor.
Someone gasped.
Brielle looked down at them.
Then she stepped forward.
Her ivory heel came down on a pale lavender flower.
Crack.
The sound was tiny.
But in the silence, everyone heard it.
She shifted her weight.
Another flower folded beneath her shoe.
Crack.
Evelyn's hands remained suspended in front of her.
"Please," she whispered.
Brielle looked directly at her.
"Don't make this into something it's not.""
Evelyn lowered her hands.
"I wasn't.""
"You embarrassed me.""
"I didn't mean to.""
"You knew this was a formal wedding.""
Evelyn looked toward Isaiah.
He had been standing near the head table, speaking with one of the groomsmen.
He had heard everything.
His face had changed.
The easy wedding-day smile was gone.
"Isaiah," Evelyn said quietly.
He crossed the room.
"Brielle.""
She folded her arms.
"What?""
Isaiah stopped beside his grandmother.
He looked down at the crushed flowers.
Then at Evelyn's trembling hands.
Then at Brielle.
"What did you just do?""
Brielle gave a small shrug.
"I dropped a bouquet.""
"You stepped on it.""
"It was paper.""
Evelyn looked down.
One of the crushed flowers had rolled beneath the edge of Isaiah's shoe.
He bent down and picked it up.
The paper petals were bent and wrinkled.
He turned it over in his palm.
"You made this?"" he asked Evelyn.
She nodded.
"I started in April.""
Isaiah's jaw tightened.
"Brielle knows that.""
Brielle sighed.
"Isaiah, please don't start.""
"Start what?""
"A scene.""
"You already made one.""
A few guests looked away.
Others watched openly.
Near the bar, Isaiah's best friend Marcus whispered something to his wife.
At the far end of the room, one of the servers stopped pushing a cart.
Nobody seemed willing to breathe.
Brielle's eyes narrowed.
"You are really going to do this right now?""
Isaiah stepped closer to Evelyn.
His voice stayed calm.
"She made those for you. Apologize.""
Brielle stared at him.
"Excuse me?""
"You heard me.""
Evelyn touched his arm.
"Isaiah, it's okay.""
"No, Grandma.""
He gently lowered her trembling hands.
"You don't have to defend her.""
Brielle's lips parted.
"I'm your wife.""
Isaiah looked at the wedding band on his finger.
"We've been married for less than an hour.""
"Exactly.""
"And you're already asking me to choose between protecting your feelings and watching someone humiliate my grandmother.""
Brielle glanced around the room.
"She brought paper flowers to a wedding that cost more than her house.""
Evelyn flinched.
Isaiah's eyes hardened.
"You don't get to talk about her like that.""
"Why? Because she's your grandmother?""
"Because she's a human being.""
Brielle shook her head.
"You've changed.""
Isaiah almost laughed.
"No. I'm finally paying attention.""
The words landed harder than shouting would have.
Brielle looked at him.
"What does that mean?""
Isaiah didn't answer.
He crouched again and began gathering the broken paper flowers.
One.
Then another.
Evelyn watched him.
"You don't have to pick them up," she whispered.
"I know.""
He gathered another crushed bloom.
"I'm doing it because you made them.""
Brielle rolled her eyes.
"Unbelievable.""
Isaiah stood.
He held the ruined bouquet in both hands.
Then he walked toward a nearby guest and carefully placed it on an empty chair.
He turned back.
Brielle was watching him.
For the first time that afternoon, uncertainty crossed her face.
"Isaiah?""
He didn't respond.
He looked toward the cake table.
The enormous five-tier cake stood only a few feet away.
Perfect.
Untouched.
Waiting for the traditional photographs.
Waiting for the cake cutting.
Waiting for the couple who had spent nearly a year planning this day.
Isaiah stared at it for several seconds.
Then he looked back at Brielle.
She noticed.
"What are you looking at?""
Isaiah said nothing.
And somewhere behind them, someone quietly whispered,
"Oh, no.""
Isaiah took one step toward the cake.
Brielle's expression changed.
May you like
She followed his gaze.
And suddenly, she looked afraid.