It was the morning of the wedding. Three weeks after the engagement.

The hotel suite was quiet except for the soft hum of music playing from Ava’s phone. Her hands were slightly shaky as she stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection. She hardly recognized herself, but in the best way.

Her dress was a soft ivory, not bright white—something warm, something romantic. The bodice hugged her gently, with a lace overlay and tiny pearl buttons running down the back. The neckline dipped slightly off her shoulders, soft and elegant. Her waist flowed into a light, full skirt made of layers of tulle. It moved softly every...