Tears of joy, or tears of shame?
The tears of shame would come soon—that much she was sure of.
Near the pulpit, her father stopped, faced her and dabbed at his own tears before kissing her cheek. “I love you, baby,” he said.
“I love you, too,” Shayna said, her voice a whisper.
She hoped her father wouldn’t be upset with her ruse, but she knew his wrath would be for Vince. Vince, who’d behaved like the son her father had never had.
How could you? Shayna wondered, and then took the two steps onto the podium to join her groom.
The singer finished her song. Vince took Shayna’s hands in his, his eyes lighting up with warmth.
“Baby, you look amazing,” he told her, and Shayna wanted to yank her hands from his grip. She was past the devastation, at least temporarily, and was going on pure anger.
“Dearly beloved,” the minister intoned. “We are gathered here today—”
“Excuse me,” Shayna interrupted, her stomach fluttering. She had known she would speak, but she hadn’t expected it to be just then. But she couldn’t fake it a moment longer. Couldn’t stand the sight of Vince acting like the happy fiancé. “I—I need to say something.”
The minister looked confused. So did Vince.
But when neither objected, Shayna forged ahead, meeting her fiancé’s tear-filled eyes. “Actually, I have a question for you, sweetheart.” She added the last word with much exaggeration.
“What, baby?” Vince asked, looking and sounding concerned. “What is it?”
Part of her wanted to turn and run down the aisle. That would be easier than confronting Vince publicly. And yet, she’d made up her mind. Difficult or not, she was going to do what she’d planned.
“Do you love me, Vince?” Shayna asked. “Love me enough that you believe you’re making the right decision by marrying me?”
A hum of surprise sounded in the crowd. People were curious now, perhaps some realizing that something wasn’t right.
“Of course I do,” Vince responded. He squeezed Shayna’s hands tighter and chuckled softly in relief, his tone saying he felt his bride was suffering from last-minute jitters. “You know I love you more than anything, baby. You’re the one I want to grow old with. Have children with. Spend the rest of my life with.”
There were some, “Awwws,” and a few people even clapped—that’s how perfect Vince’s answer had been.
“Shall I continue?” the minister asked. The warm smile on his face said he also believed that Shayna had simply needed reassuring.
Shayna faced the minister. A beat passed. Then she said, “Just one more question.”
Silence filled the church, so much so that the buzzing of a fly could be heard. Shayna swallowed the lump in her throat so that she could find her voice, aware that everyone was waiting to hear what she had to say.
She straightened her shoulders and said, “You love me.”
“Of course.”
“You love me so much you ended up in your car after your bachelor party, making out with a stripper!”
Startled gasps erupted in the pews.
“Baby,” Vince said. He tried to chuckle, but the sound was hollow. “A—a stripper? W-what?”
Shayna pulled her hands from the man she was grateful not to be marrying. “Don’t you dare try to lie, Vince. I saw you with my own eyes! You were parked right outside the private hall you rented, you jerk. I saw you leave the building with her. I saw you go to your car with her. And I saw what happened after that, too.”
Vince said nothing, but Shayna saw the panic in his widened eyes. The disbelief that she could possibly know what he’d done.
Shayna glanced to her left, at her sister, who was her maid of honor. Brianne nodded her encouragement.
“And baby,” Shayna went on, slowly and clearly, “if that’s your definition of love, then I’ll pass on the whole marrying you thing, thank you very much.”
Vince’s mouth fell open, but he was too startled to speak. A buzz of surprised chatter instantly filled the church. The groomsmen and bridesmaids all stared at Shayna, stunned looks on their faces. Shayna would answer their questions—but not yet.
Running on adrenaline, Shayna gathered her wide organza skirt in her hands and turned as swiftly as she could. She hustled back down the aisle, aware that all eyes were on her.
She knew she would cry later, but for that moment, as she neared the back doors of the church, she smiled.
Vince Danbury may have had a scandalously good time last night, but Shayna had just had the last laugh.
Chapter 2
“You’re still going on your honeymoon?” Brianne asked Shayna later that afternoon, the look on her face saying she thought her sister was crazy.
“I’m not going on my honeymoon,” Shayna clarified. She was running her fingers through her shoulder-length hair, trying to loosen the tight spiral curls the hairdresser had done such a great job of creating for her wedding. “A honeymoon requires two people who just tied the knot.”
“You know what I mean,” Brianne said. “You still plan to go to Jamaica tomorrow—the trip that was supposed to be your honeymoon?”
“Seven days in Jamaica? Of course I’m going.”
Brianne placed her hands on her hips as she stared at Shayna, who sat on the edge of Brianne’s bed. “You’re serious.”
Shayna didn’t respond. Instead, her eyes traveled over her sister—from the white orchid adorning her short black hair to the pale yellow maid of honor dress. “Do me a favor, sis? Take that dress off, please?” Her wedding dress had been the first thing Shayna had taken off when she’d gotten to her parents’ house, slipping into a pair of her sister’s shorts and a T-shirt. “I really don’t want any reminders of Vince.”
“Oh.” Brianne smoothed her hands over the dress. “Right.” She reached behind her to drag down the zipper. “Such a shame I didn’t get to wear this all day. After all that weight I lost for your wedding…”
Her sister did look fabulous. At the beginning of the year, she’d started a diet and rigorous workout routine to get in better shape for Shayna’s wedding. She’d lost thirty-five pounds.
Brianne walked toward the closet, shimmying the dress off her shoulders. She found a red sundress with a formfitting halter neck and slipped into that.
Brianne twirled around, facing Shayna again in the casual dress. “Better?”
Shayna nodded. “Yes. Except for the flower.”
Brianne pulled the flower from her hair and tossed it onto her dresser. “Now, back to your trip—”
“Yes, I’m going.”
“But you’re grieving,” Brianne protested. “This isn’t the time to go on a trip alone.”
“Why not?”
“Because you hate even going to a movie alone,” Brianne pointed out. “I can’t see you going on a trip by yourself.”
“Well, I am.”
The look Brianne flashed her sister was full of doubt. She thought Shayna was bluffing.
“I’m