The room was quiet for a beat. Then Maya clapped once. Then someone else joined, and it rippled through the space until people were cheering — Jake’s family included. It wasn’t out of cruelty; it was because they were proud.
Then Maya clapped once.
Because I wasn’t the one who should be ashamed.
Jake and Maddie left in a storm of whispered excuses and slammed doors.
Not a single person followed.
The next morning, I wore the white jumpsuit I had planned to change into for my wedding reception.
“You’re still showing up,” Maya said. “Might as well show up in white.”
Not a single person followed.
When I stepped into the barn, it hurt. Every garland and fairy light reminded me of what I’d almost walked into blindly. But then I saw them — my people.
The ones who stayed.
