The scent of Lake Geneva water mixed with expensive French perfume filled the air.

I stood at the back of the white-tented pavilion, holding Leo and Owen by their warm hands.

Wyatt pressed close against my leg, his fingers tugging at the hem of my tailored blazer.

All three of my five-year-old sons wore matching navy suits with small white collars.

Up at the altar, Garrett Bradford stood next to Audrey Kensington.

Garrett looked exactly as he had six years ago, tall and dark-haired, though his shoulders seemed heavier.

Audrey was draped in layers of silk lace, a diamond tiara catching the bright afternoon sun.

Vivian Bradford sat in the front row, her spine perfectly straight, her face a mask of cold satisfaction.

Beside her sat Grandfather Bradford, clutching his silver-headed cane with spotted, frail hands.

The string quartet played a soft, sweeping melody that echoed over the manicured lawns.

“Mommy, is that Daddy?” Leo whispered, his voice carrying in the quiet space between notes.

I did not answer him.

I simply took a step forward, onto the white carpet of the center aisle.

My heels clicked sharply against the wooden floorboards of the pavilion.

A woman in the back row turned around, her eyes widening as she looked at my face, and then down at the three identical boys beside me.

She gasped, a sharp, sudden sound that cut through the music.

The whisper spread like a wildfire through dry grass.

Guests turned their heads, one by one, their murmurs drowning out the violins.

The priest stopped mid-sentence.

Garrett turned toward the commotion, his smile freezing instantly.

His eyes locked onto mine, and then his gaze dropped to the triplets.

His face drained of all color, turning a dull grey under the warm pavilion lights.

“Clara?” Garrett’s voice was barely a whisper, but it sounded loud in the sudden silence.

Audrey turned next, her bouquet of white orchids trembling in her gloved hands.

“Who is this, Garrett?” Audrey asked, her voice high and sharp. “What is going on here?”

Vivian stood up from her front-row seat, her pearl necklace rising and falling with her rapid breathing.