“Maya,” I whispered. “Our daughter can hear you.”
She looked over at Adele. “Then maybe she’ll learn not to settle.”
Then she shut the door behind her — no kiss for Shannon, no promise to call — just the sound of it closing, and six girls suddenly became my entire world.
“Our daughter can hear you.”
Back in the kitchen, Adele sat facing me.
“I can tell her no,” I said. “This is your wedding.”
“Tell her she’s welcome.”
My stomach sank. “Adele.”
“I mean it.”
“She’s not coming for you. She’s coming to perform.”
“I know.”
“This is your wedding.”
“Then why let her?”
Adele held my gaze for a long moment. “Because you spent 15 years protecting us from the truth. I think it’s time the truth protected you.”
I froze.
“No.”
“You know what I’m asking for.”
“The box stays where it is.”
“I think it’s time the truth protected you.”
