Clara laughed it off. “That’s just Stephanie. She wants everything perfect.” He nodded, though the look in his eyes said more than his words. Clara chose not to press. The weeks ticked by in a blur of planning. Stephanie arranged tastings, met florists, and scheduled dress fittings. Each time Clara thanked her, Stephanie’s smile barely flickered.
“Anything for you,” she said, her voice steady, almost rehearsed. The night of a family dinner, Clara sat curled into the couch, her cheeks flushed with wine. Stephanie settled beside her with a neat folder. “Just a few routine things,” she said lightly. “Deposits, venue holds—nothing dramatic.”