I certainly wouldn’t. In fact, I’m now absolutely convinced I did the right thing, and that’s the only reason I haven’t fled the scene. The person Ella’s in love with isn’t some long-lost ex-boyfriend showing up at the eleventh hour and stirring up old feelings. No, he’s in their wedding party. Which means he’ll be in this couple’s orbit for years to come. Just as my mother’s friend (and my father’s current wife) remained in the shadows of my parents’ marriage until she stepped in to take my mother’s place. I wish someone had been there for my mother on her wedding day. Maybe her life would have turned out differently. But no, she discovered the truth herself, years later, and by then she’d tied herself to him—by having me.

Too bad no one understands my ill-timed thought process. The bride’s father, his eyebrows now two thick slashes of disgust that perfectly match his flattened lips, looks especially irate as he stomps up the aisle in my direction.

When he reaches me, I step back and throw up my fists, my body instinctively poised to deflect any physical contact. I know I’m the wedding crasher here, but I will kick this man’s ass if necessary.

“Young lady, I don’t know who you are, but this is wildly inappropriate. What’s the meaning of this? You have no right to—”

“Hold on a minute, Jim,” Lina says, appearing from thin air like a sorceress and stepping in front of me. “Jaslene’s going to tell the guests we’re taking a short break.” She turns her head and directs a pointed stare my way. “While we sort this out.”

Lina speaks into her headset as she ushers us inside the hotel, gesturing for the remaining members of the wedding party to follow suit. Her face reveals nothing, but I know my cousin: She’s quietly regulating her own emotions and anticipating how to manage everyone else’s.

We wait for Dean and Max to join us in a small banquet room. Unable to meet anyone’s gaze, I pick at the sleeves of my top and do my best to neaten my appearance. What possessed me to wear a white blouse to fulfill my duties as a makeup assistant? Now I’m sporting smudges and splotches that make me look unkempt. I hate being unprepared for battle. And I’m not kidding myself either. It’s going to get ugly.