THE EXTRAORDINARY BRIDE OF THE WYNDHAM FAMILY
Sofie buried her beautiful face in her hands, cheeks burning crimson, a shy giggle escaping her mouth despite her embarrassment.
Everyone chimed in with playful jabs—Betty sharing a tame anecdote, and Maya offering a wink—turning the moment into a tapestry of fond ribbing and support.
“I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back,” Isla said suddenly, setting her glass down with a soft clink. The alcohol had hit her too, leaving a pleasant buzz that made her steps a little lighter.
Betsy nodded eagerly, sliding out of the booth. “Me too—wait up!” She tagged along, the two weaving through the club's gentle crowd, their gowns whispering against the floor.
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