The morning air at the beach house was warm and salty, carrying the faint scent of sea and flowers. Laura stood in front of the mirror, hands trembling slightly as she smoothed the delicate layers of her gown. Cole was in the next room, fighting with a tie that stubbornly refused to cooperate. She could hear his muttered grumbles echo through the halls.

Vienna and Sue flitted around, fussing over ribbons, flowers, and last-minute adjustments. “No, the roses should go left!” Vienna insisted. “Left is too predictable! Right is dramatic!” Sue countered, rolling her eyes but smiling, the tension of old rivalries softened into playful energy.

Laura groaned quietly, clutching...