My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 05

My Wedding Photos Belonged To His First Love Chapter 05

On the wedding day, the bridal suite was empty.

Derek stood in the doorway, and the color drained from his face inch by inch.

The makeup artist whispered, “Mr. Sullivan, Ms. Thompson left two hours ago. She said she was going to check the outdoor camera positions.”

His assistant ran over, phone in hand. “Mr. Sullivan, her phone is off.”

Margaret’s voice went shrill. “Off? Does she have any sense of what day it is?”

Lily stood to the side in her bridesmaid dress, her face white as paper. “Is it because of me? Should I go find her and explain?”

Derek didn’t look at her.

He stared at the empty vanity.

The only thing left on it was a brooch.

It was the one I had planned to pin to my wedding gown-a replica made from the parts of my

mother’s vintage camera.

A card was propped behind it.

Returning the original was too hard. There’s no need to wear the replica, either.

Derek gripped the card, his knuckles bone-white.

The officiant called from outside. “Mr. Sullivan, it’s time. The guests are all waiting.”

Margaret lowered her voice. “Derek, no matter what, get the situation under control first. She’s doing this to force your hand. Don’t give her the reaction she wants.”

Derek stood silent for a few seconds. Then he said coldly, “Start the ceremony.’

The ballroom lights dimmed.

The wedding screen lit up.

Everyone expected the wedding trailer.

The first image that appeared was Lily wearing the main wedding gown.

The note in the corner was painfully clear. [If Lily had chosen this path, this would have been the

wedding I imagined.]

The room erupted in whispers.

Margaret shot to her feet. “Turn it off!”

The staff were sweating. “We can’t! The permissions are locked to Ms. Thompson’s account!”

The second image was the custom gown order contract.

[Client name: Lily Morgan.]

[Date: five years ago.]

The third was a side-by-side comparison of the brand collaboration’s initial draft and the final

version.

My notes, my hand-drawn sketches, my workflow chart.

The byline had been changed from Nora Thompson to Lily Morgan.

A guest murmured, “Jesus. This is a train wreck.”

The fourth was a piece of security footage.

Derek, taking the vintage camera from my studio and handing it to Lily.

Lily laughed and said, “This piece would make a really pretty bracelet.”

Derek said, “It’s just useless stuff. Take it if you like it.”

In the frame, a sticky note was visible on my bookshelf. [Mom’s camera. Do not touch.]

Derek stood on the stage, his face utterly bloodless.

Lily was in full panic. “It wasn’t like that! I didn’t know it was her mother’s!”

Finally, the screen played a video of me.

I was wearing a simple white shirt, sitting in a very bare room.

“Hi, everyone. Sorry to do it this way, but the wedding’s off. The reason? It’s actually pretty

simple.”

“That gown wasn’t ordered for me. I wasn’t the first choice in the photos. And even my work-my

mother’s keepsake-was just handed off like it meant nothing.”

The me in the video paused. “Derek, you said I was already the bride, so why fight her over

anything. Well, I’m done fighting.”