Chapter 1

The Hugheses' countryside estate was drowning in white roses and sunlight. I stood at the edge of the manicured lawn, a single dark spot in a sea of pastel suits and floral dresses. My navy dress was simple, the same one I wore to my high school graduation, the last time Caleb and I saw each other before his parents completely cut me out of his life.

Mr. and Mrs. Hughes saw me immediately. Their smiles, so perfectly polished for their guests, tightened at the corners. Mrs. Hughes, a woman built of money and sharp angles, started walking toward me, her heels sinking slightly into the perfect grass.

"Maria," she said, her voice low and cold, meant only for me. "I don' t know what you think you' re doing here, but you are not welcome."

"I' m a friend of the groom," I said, my voice even.

"You were a friend of a boy we saved," Mr. Hughes corrected, appearing at her side. "That boy is gone. Today, our son, Caleb, is getting married. You have no place here."

I didn' t argue. I just looked past them, toward the white tent where Caleb stood. He looked like a stranger in his expensive tuxedo, a polite smile fixed on his face as he greeted a line of people I' d never seen before. He was the town' s beloved veterinarian, a man known for his gentle hands and kind heart. A perfect son. A perfect fiancé.

It was all a lie.

The bride, Nicole, a sweet-faced schoolteacher, noticed the confrontation. She walked over, her white dress rustling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked, her eyes kind and genuinely concerned.

"This is... an old acquaintance," Mrs. Hughes said dismissively. "She was just leaving."

"Oh, no, please stay," Nicole said to me, her smile unwavering. "Any friend of Caleb' s is a friend of mine. We have plenty of room."

She didn' t know. She couldn' t possibly know that she was just another part of the cage they had built around him.

Mrs. Hughes shot me a look of pure hatred, but she couldn' t make a scene in front of her new daughter-in-law. She and her husband retreated, their backs rigid with fury. I found a seat at a table in the back, a silent observer in a life that was supposed to have been erased from Caleb' s memory.

I watched him go through the motions. The vows, the kiss, the first dance. He performed flawlessly. His smile never wavered. He was the perfect picture of a happy man.

But I knew him. I knew the real Caleb, the boy who used to hide under the flimsy bed in the foster home, the boy whose only real dream was to see the ocean. The boy his parents had tried to bury.

Later, during the cake-cutting, the crowd gathered around. Nicole held the silver knife, and Caleb placed his hand over hers. They smiled for the cameras. As they sliced into the towering white confection, I moved from my table. I slipped through the guests, a quiet shadow, until I was standing right behind him.

His parents tensed, watching my every move.

I leaned in close, my lips just beside his ear. The scent of roses and sugar was thick in the air. I whispered a simple phrase, five short words.

"It' s okay to be you."