He was crying the way people cry when they have held something for a very long time, and a door has finally cracked open. It frightened Helen more than his presence had. She looked away. She said I do. The chapel responded with a soft, collective exhale. She was married. Something enormous had already begun.
During the recessional, Claire appeared beside her with a champagne flute and narrowed eyes. “Who is the man in Daniel’s seat?” Helen kept her voice low. “I don’t know yet.” Claire glanced toward Richard. “Does he?” Helen met her daughter’s eyes. A beat of silence. “I think so.” Claire absorbed this. “Do you want me to—” “Stay close,” Helen said. “Not yet.”