Organ music accompanied her long march down the aisle. Everyone glared. They didn’t want her there. It didn’t matter. Only the polished box mattered.
Her avoiding eyes flitted everywhere before she could convince herself to look. Eric seemed strange in a suit, but no stranger than he seemed in a church. The stench of a hundred roses made her wheezy. She scowled at the array of formal blossoms; their drama was so unlike him.
Time was short. Behind her, someone coughed a warning.
She bent low, whispering her goodbye to the man nobody else here had known.
“You would’ve hated this.”