Every head turned.
Amanda’s smile disappeared when she spotted the large white album in my hands.
“Brittany?” she said sharply. “What are you doing?”
I walked a few steps down the aisle.
“You told me how important your wedding photographs were. I thought you might appreciate some pictures I’ve collected.”
“Are you serious right now?”
Travis, her groom, looked between us.
“Brittany, what’s going on?”
I stopped several feet from the altar and opened the album.
The first photograph showed Amanda holding Sophie at the hospital, just hours after she was born.
Amanda was 19 then, smiling so widely that her eyes were almost closed.
“Do you remember this?” I asked.
Amanda stared at the photograph.
“Of course I do. But this isn’t the time.”
“You told me that day that being an aunt was the best thing that had ever happened to you.”
“Brittany, stop.”
I turned another page.
Amanda was teaching Sophie to ride a bicycle.
