Patricia’s face drained of color.
“You’re imagining things.”
Richard didn’t look away.
“No. This isn’t the first time.”
A murmur spread through the guests.
He took a breath, as if finally releasing decades of restraint.
“You did this at your sister’s wedding years ago. You spilled red wine down her dress right before the ceremony. You said it was an accident. I saw the truth then, too.”
Patricia’s mouth opened, then closed.
“I covered for you,” Richard continued, his voice breaking. “I always did. But not anymore.”
Aaron looked stunned.
“Dad?”
