The day I had been waiting for was finally here. After nine years with Jeremiah, today was the day we would finally say our vows. Everything was supposed to be perfect—the dress, the flowers, the music. Even the church held deep significance; it was the same place where my parents had been married decades ago.
But fate had other plans.
Just as I was about to step out of the dressing room, Mia, my maid of honor, rushed in. Her face was pale, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.
I frowned. “Mia, what’s wrong?”
She hesitated. “It’s the priest… Father Peter. He’s in the hospital.”
I blinked. “What?”
“He won’t make it. But he sent someone else—a colleague of his. He said we can trust him.”
My stomach twisted. A replacement? We didn’t even know this man.
Mia saw the worry on my face and squeezed my hand. “What else can we do? Everyone’s already in the church. Jeremiah is waiting at the altar.”
She was right. There was no turning back now.
I swallowed my nerves and nodded. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
