“She didn’t tell my dad.”
His eyes widened.
“She packed my lunch the next morning.”
My lips trembled.
“And inside was a note.”
Hannah closed her eyes briefly.
“It said, ‘I’m in your corner whenever you’re ready.’”
A quiet wave of emotion moved through the room.
“I kept that note.”
I covered my mouth.
“It is still inside a box in my apartment.”
Greg lowered his head.
“When I got my first job interview, Jenna drove across town with an iron because I had destroyed my shirt.”
People laughed again.
“When I got sick freshman year, she drove three hours with soup because my father thought telling me to drink water over the phone counted as medical care.”
“That sounds right.”
“When I wanted to quit nursing school, she sat beside me until two in the morning and never once told me what to do.”
Hannah’s voice shook.
“She just kept asking me what I wanted.”
My vision blurred.
“For eight years, Jenna loved me without asking for anything back.”
Everything else in the room disappeared.
“My dad gave me strength.”
She looked at Greg.
“My mother gave me life and so much of who I am.”
Her fingers touched Audrey’s pearls.
“And Jenna…”
Her voice cracked.
“Jenna taught me something about chosen love.”
Then she stepped away from the sweetheart table and walked toward me, microphone still in hand.
I stood before she reached table four.
Hannah took my hand and hugged me hard.
“I saw you,” she whispered.
“What?”
“At the ceremony.”
She pulled back.
“I saw you in the second row.”
I couldn’t answer.
“And I saw you didn’t have your corsage.”
I glanced toward Greg.
His face had gone pale.
“I don’t know who made you think you needed to disappear today.”
Her voice was quiet, but the microphone carried it through the room.
“You are not an extra in my life.”
My knees nearly gave way.
“You never were.”
Hannah took a small white rose from our centerpiece and carefully tucked it into the lace over my heart.
