A room designed for quick fixes.
No room was big enough for what was about to happen.
“Wait here,” Patricia said. Her gaze held mine for a moment. “You don’t need to shout. You don’t need to fight. You just need to tell the truth.”
I nodded, but I couldn’t feel my hands. My body was running on something older than logic, older than adulthood. Nineteen-year-old Emma lived in my spine, braced for disbelief.
Derek paced once, then stopped, rubbing his palms down his suit pants like he could erase the past. Josh stood near the door, shoulders tense, eyes fixed on the floor. He looked like he was preparing to jump in front of a car.
“You don’t have to do this,” I whispered to him.
Josh’s head snapped up. “Yes, I do,” he said, and his voice shook. “I should’ve done it then. I didn’t. I was scared.”
“You were a kid,” I said softly.
He swallowed hard. “I’m not now.”
The door opened.
My parents walked in first.
My mother entered with her chin lifted, eyes already sharp with accusation. My father followed, stiff and cold, like his anger could keep him from feeling anything else. Behind them came Brooke, still in her white dress, still perfectly styled, fury blazing in her eyes as if the entire universe had offended her by pausing for anyone but her.
Ryan came last, uncertain, jaw tight, eyes flicking around the room as if he sensed a trap but didn’t know where it was.
“What is this?” Brooke snapped immediately. “Who dragged us in here? I’m in the middle of my reception.”
My mother’s gaze landed on me and hardened. “Emma,” she said like a warning. “If you’re planning to cause a scene, I will have you removed.”
My father didn’t speak at first. He just stared at me the way he had eleven years ago, with that same disgust that felt like rejection made physical.
My stomach clenched, but I forced my voice steady.
“I’m only going to say this once,” I said. “Eleven years ago, I didn’t do what Brooke said I did.”
Brooke scoffed, loud and theatrical. “Oh my God. Still? We’re doing this now?”
Ryan’s brow furrowed. “Doing what?” he asked, looking at Brooke. “What is she talking about?”
Brooke’s smile flickered, then reset. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s old drama. She’s always been unstable.”
Josh flinched beside me.
Patricia stepped into the room then, closing the door behind her. The air changed. My mother’s face tightened when she saw her.
“Patricia,” my mother said, forcing politeness. “This is inappropriate.”
Patricia’s voice stayed calm. “So is marrying my son under false pretenses.”
Brooke’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”
Patricia didn’t look at Brooke. She looked at Ryan. “I asked for this meeting because I believe you deserve to hear the truth about something that happened before you met Brooke. And about patterns you may have already noticed.”
Ryan’s eyes flicked to me, then to Derek, then back to Brooke. “Who is that?” he asked, nodding toward Derek.
Brooke’s face tightened. “No one,” she said too quickly.
Derek stepped forward.
The room went still.
Brooke’s eyes widened, the fury faltering into shock so raw it cracked her mask for a heartbeat.
“Derek?” she breathed, and the name came out like a mistake.
My mother’s mouth parted. My father’s eyes narrowed.
Derek’s voice shook, but he forced it out. “I lied,” he said. “Eleven years ago, I lied about Emma.”
Brooke’s face went pale.
“What are you talking about?” my mother whispered.
Derek swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Brooke told you Emma tried to kiss me. That she made a move on me. None of that happened.”
Brooke laughed, sharp and brittle. “This is insane.”
Derek didn’t stop. “Brooke made it up. She overheard me complimenting Emma and accused me of having feelings for her. She demanded I back her up to prove my loyalty. I was young and stupid and terrified of losing her, so I did what she wanted.”
My mother’s hand flew to her mouth.
My father’s jaw clenched so hard it looked painful.
Brooke’s voice rose. “You’re lying. Why would you come here and say this on my wedding day?”
