“Did Ethan really save your son?”
His professional composure softened into something more personal.
My dad laughed and told me to walk myself down the aisle because I was marrying a nobody. Mom sat beside him in the back row while I walked alone, gripping my bouquet.
“My son, Jordan, was nineteen,” he said. “Wrong place, wrong jacket, wrong witness. The public defender before Ethan told him to take the plea. Ethan stayed up three nights going through bus footage. Found the real suspect stepping off at the next stop.” Marcus looked across the room toward Ethan. “My son is studying engineering now.”
I followed his gaze.
Ethan stood smiling at something his mother had said.
His suit wasn’t rented, despite Dad’s insult.
We had purchased it together during a clearance sale at a small downtown shop. Ethan had worried about spending too much money. I had simply told him he looked handsome, and he had blushed.
Marcus smiled faintly.
“Your husband is not flashy. But he shows up.”
Those words stayed with me.
About an hour later, Mom walked over.
