The wedding dress was beautiful in its simplicity. White Spanish Lace covered her black curls, trailing down her back, a wonderful remembrance of her mother.
Standing at the back of the church, he watched them near the altar, paralysed with shock. He struggled to understand her wish to marry her old flame so impulsively, without even consulting him. He shook his head. How could she consult him? She had no idea who he was.
Stumbling at her vows, she shook her head, and stepped back. He could finally move. She couldn't marry the fine man. She loved Zorro too much.