I barely even remember the next few seconds—there's a hole in my memory from me behind the podium to the doors shutting between Lily and me. My mind probably blacked out the part where I walked with my head down past her, unable to look, unable to speak, and most of all unable to process what was happening.
But I did end up looking one last time. One last moment, before the doors closed between us. It was the last time I saw Lily Flower. I think I expected her to have an emotionless gaze, maybe not even in my direction. Or worse, she could have been sneering. But she didn't. And she wasn't. She held her head high and turned it away from me. She was smiling—wide and full of her feelings. I didn't understand it. I hated it. I hated that happy look so much. I suppose that says a lot more about me than I care to admit.
The guard cleared his throat. "So how do you know the bride?" he asked.
"I don't," I responded. And maybe I did know how to be sincere, because I looked right at him, despite my burning eyes, and I said, "I've never met her before in my life."