“Do you know each other?” I asked.
My father swallowed hard, then whispered a name I had never heard before.
“Adrian.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
The church doors were still open behind us, letting cold air move through my veil. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to scream. I wanted someone to tell me my father was confused from fever.
But Julian stepped down from the altar.
“I haven’t used that name in years,” he said quietly.
A murmur rolled through the guests.
My father moved in front of me like I was still a little girl crossing a dangerous street.
“Stay away from my daughter,” he said.
Julian looked past him, straight at me.
“It’s too late to change anything,” he said. “Now you can finally learn the truth about why I’m marrying you.”
