Healed by True Affection

The church was a vision of white roses and silver ribbons—exactly as I'd dreamed since I was a little girl. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting kaleidoscope patterns across the aisle I'd walked down ten times before. Eleven was supposed to be our lucky number. This time, Talon and I would finally be husband and wife.

"Isabel Howell, do you take Talon Dixon to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The pastor's voice echoed through the cathedral.

I gazed up at Talon—tall, impossibly handsome in his tailored tuxedo, his dark eyes holding mine with what I believed was love. Five years of my life I'd given him. Five years of postponed weddings, of explanations to embarrassed guests, of tears dried in private.

"I do," I whispered, my voice stronger than I felt. My hands trembled slightly in his grasp.

The pastor nodded and turned to Talon. "And do you, Talon Dixon, take Isabel Howell to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to—"

The cathedral doors slammed open with a bang that made my heart stop. I didn't need to turn around. I knew exactly who it was. The same person who had interrupted our wedding ten times before.

"NO!" The scream echoed off the vaulted ceiling. "DADDY, YOU CAN'T!"

Harmony Castro, Talon's adopted daughter, staggered down the aisle in a white dress that rivaled my own. Her mascara streaked artfully down her porcelain cheeks, her dark hair wild around her shoulders.

"You promised," she sobbed, her voice carrying to every corner of the silent church. "You promised you'd only marry me!"

The collective gasp from our guests was like a gust of wind. I stood frozen, watching as Harmony collapsed dramatically at the altar steps, her body convulsing with what appeared to be uncontrollable sobs.

I waited for Talon to dismiss her, to call security, to do anything that would prove his commitment to me. Instead, his hand slipped from mine as he knelt beside her.

"Harmony, sweetheart," he murmured, gathering her into his arms. "You know I care about you. You're my daughter."

"Not your daughter," she wailed, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Never just your daughter!"

The pastor shifted uncomfortably. My maid of honor squeezed my elbow in silent support. I remained still, a statue in white lace, watching the scene unfold as it had ten times before.

"I need to take her home," Talon said finally, looking up at me with an expression I'd convinced myself was regret. "She's not well. You understand, don't you, Isabel?"

I always understood. I always forgave. I was always the one left standing alone at the altar while he carried Harmony away.

"Let me help," I said mechanically, following them to a small vestry room off the main chapel.

Harmony continued to sob in Talon's arms as he whispered soothing words into her hair. I watched, numb, as he rocked her like a child. When had I last received such tenderness from him?

"The ring," Harmony hiccupped suddenly.