When My Fiancé Don Posed With My Sister, I Left
I went to try on my wedding gown with Lorenzo—my fiancé, the Don of the Morretti family. My younger sister, Serafina, begged to come along.
I stepped out from behind the velvet curtain. There she was, pinning a brooch to his lapel.
I opened my mouth to say, “Let me do that,” but the photographer had already turned to her with a grin. “Newlyweds, look this way.”
They both turned. The camera clicked twice, and the photographer brushed past me.
Ninety-nine shots. Every single one of Serafina and Lorenzo. Not one of me—the actual bride.
I stood there, hollow.
When we were children, they always played bride and groom. I clapped on cue. When we grew up, they sat at the head of family councils; I m