The Bouquet Toss That Turned Into a Joke
The DJ announced the bouquet toss. A crowd of single women gathered at the center. Someone tugged me in before I could protest. Marissa stepped onto a small platform, bouquet raised dramatically.
Three. Two. One—
For a heartbeat, the bouquet flew straight toward me. Then Marissa twisted her wrist at the last second, sending it to the far corner.
Her cousin caught it and squealed.
Marissa pressed a hand to her mouth in exaggerated surprise. “Looks like my sister will have to wait a little longer!”
Laughter rippled across the room.
My face burned. My stomach tightened. My heart sank.
I quietly retreated to Table Fourteen, clutching my purse, trying not to appear defeated. If I slipped out through the kitchen, I could probably be home by eleven.
Then I heard it.
A calm, low voice right behind me:
“Pretend we’re a couple for the night. I promise your sister will regret everything she said.”
I froze.
He was tall—not intimidating, but steady, confident. His dark suit fit perfectly, silver streaks brushing his temples. His eyes, deep and observant, carried a quiet understanding that felt oddly grounding.
“I’m Daniel,” he said softly. “Alec’s cousin. Mind if I sit?”
He didn’t wait. He pulled a chair beside mine with effortless ease, resting a gentle hand on the back—not touching, just close enough to be noticed.
Noticed it was.
A bridesmaid paused mid-sentence. An aunt gasped. Two groomsmen exchanged looks.
But Marissa’s reaction stunned me most.
Across the hall, her perfect wedding-day smile collapsed into rigidity.
For once, she didn’t look in control.
For once, the script had been disrupted.
