They Told the Bride to Leave the Rehearsal — Then the Vendor Check Showed Her Name
Diane's open palm crossed Emma's cheek before the first toast, in front of forty guests — you married him for money, leave this family tonight.
Emma can lose the wedding, the man at the table, and the only family that ever took her in. Diane can lose nothing, because everyone already believes her.
Emma sits at the right end of the long white table, third glass untouched, clutch flat and thick on her lap. Diane stands at the left end with Marcus beside her and the family behind her, telling the room how the money was spent.
Rosa, two seats down, keeps watching hands instead of faces. Last week she whispered that Diane's name was on the deposit slip.
Emma's hand drops toward the clutch a second after the clap lands. Diane never noticed her go quiet.
The page unfolds on the tablecloth. Flowers. Catering. Venue deposit. One cursive signature under every line, dated a month ago.
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