say I told you so. ” My throat closed. “Saturday. ” He nodded.
” I laughed because I was about to cry. ” “Franco—” He looked directly at me. ” I stopped. ” I cried in the truck on the way home. It was the first time I had cried all week. Not because Dad wasn’t walking me. Because someone else wanted to. Jimena rearranged the seating chart that evening. Father-of-the-bride seat at the head table. First row. Center aisle. Franco Delgado. She sent me a screenshot. There. Fixed. Marcos took Franco shopping for a suit
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