couldn’t allow Felicity to turn this into another story about my supposed instability.
I faced Silas.
“I appreciate what you’re saying,” I told him.
“But I don’t want anyone to misunderstand what happened at the hospital.
I didn’t save you alone.
There were physicians, respiratory therapists, paramedics, technicians, and other nurses working together.
I noticed warning signs, and I spoke up.
The team acted.”
Silas nodded.
“Then let me thank you for recognizing something important and speaking when it mattered.”
His voice softened.
“And for treating me like a person when I was terrified.”
Something in that sentence nearly undid me.
Because that was what I’d learned from my mother.
Not simply how to perform a job.
How to make frightened people feel less alone.
Nathan moved away from the head table.
He approached me slowly.
“Jenna, I owe you an apology,” he said.
“Felicity told me you were uncomfortable around new people and didn’t want to be involved in wedding planning.
I accepted that instead of asking you.”
“You didn’t know me,” I answered.
“I should have made the effort.”
He looked toward Felicity.
“And I need to speak with my wife.”
Felicity immediately reached for his arm.
“Nathan, don’t do this in front of everyone.”
“Then stop asking everyone to pretend they didn’t hear what you said.”
He gently removed her hand.
The wedding coordinator approached, looking desperately uncertain.
Nathan asked her to pause the speeches and turn the music back on.
The band began playing softly.
Guests returned hesitantly to their tables.
But the evening had changed.
There was no pretending otherwise.
Silas escorted me to a quiet room off the ballroom, along with Nathan.
Felicity insisted on joining us, followed by my father and Diane.
Once the door closed, the music became a distant vibration.
Nathan turned to Felicity.
“I want the truth.
Not a polished version.
Not something you think I want to hear.”
Felicity was crying now, although she still seemed more concerned about her makeup than my feelings.
“I didn’t know Jenna had helped your father until recently,” she said.
“When your family started asking about her, I panicked.”
“Why?” Nathan asked.
She looked at me.
“Because for once, something important was happening and it wasn’t about me.”
I hadn’t expected her to admit it.
Neither had Nathan.
She continued, speaking quickly.
“You don’t understand what it was like growing up.
Jenna was always the good one.
Her mother was practically a saint in everyone’s memories.
Even when she was dead, I felt like I was competing with her.”
I stared at her.
“You thought you were competing with my mother?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“She died when I was seventeen.”
Felicity looked down.
“I know.”
I waited for her to say she was sorry.
Instead, she said, “And everybody treated you differently afterward.”
Something cold moved through me.
“They treated me differently because I was grieving.”
“I know that now,” she whispered.
“You knew it then.”
My father stepped between us.
“Enough.
This has gone too far.”
I turned toward him.
“Did you know she was telling people I was unstable?”
He hesitated.
That hesitation answered before he did.
“Diane mentioned that Felicity was concerned about you,” he finally said.
“Concerned in what way?”
“She said you were having difficulty adjusting
