bothered me.
Frustration.
Embarrassment.
Maybe something deeper.
“Are you actually happy?”
For just a moment, it looked as though he wanted to answer honestly.
Then Vanessa appeared.
“There you are! Grant, seriously? I’ve been looking everywhere. We’re already behind schedule.”
Then she turned toward me and laughed.
“And Joan, could you stop stealing my groom?”
A couple of nearby guests laughed along with her.
Grant didn’t.
He simply followed Vanessa back into the reception.
I stood in the hallway for a moment wondering whether I should go after him.
Part
