Dusty looked up and saw that the priest was looking at her intently, waiting for the reply. It was now or never. This felt like what it was like to stand on the diving board before you jumped into the deep end, only much, much worse. Because the fall she stood to take she might not ever get back up from again.

She cleared her throat, peered over at Tom. He looked afraid, his shoulders and jaw all tense, and it seemed comical to her suddenly. Because it was the first time she had ever seen him look this way, and she did not feel sympathy for him. Not in the slightest.

Something broke loose in her, threatening to take flight. Maybe this is what falling out of love felt like.

“No,” she said, and there was a collective gasp that rippled throughout the church. The priest blinked and repeated, “No?” like someone who couldn’t speak her language, didn’t understand what she was saying. “No,” she said again, liking the sound of it, how the word felt in her mouth. Maybe she was the one learning a new language.