Dahlia and the Garden of Light - Chapter 73: Chapter 73

Amy stood by the window, holding a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Outside, the early blossoms of spring were just beginning to open — gentle pinks and cautious greens. The irony wasn’t lost on her.
Jack came up beside her, slipping his hand into hers.
“You sure you want to do this here?” he asked. “The wedding?”
She didn’t answer right away. Then:
“Yes. And no.”
A beat.
“I want the vows. I want the garden. I want you.”
She exhaled slowly.
“But I don’t want to feel like I have to prove anything to people who never saw me.”
Jack brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “Then we don’t prove anything. We just… exist. Fully. Together.”
Amy gave a soft smile. “Even with Elise glowering in the corner?”
“Especially with Elise glowering.”
They both laughed quietly, but it didn’t last long.
“I’m afraid of what this will turn into,” Amy admitted. “She always hated when I got attention.”
—
Later – Formal Family Dinner
Smith Residence – Long Table, Polished Words
Elise twirled her wine glass with feigned interest. “So, Amelia’s really going through with it. A spring wedding.”
Amy kept her tone level. “Yes. March 21st.”
“How poetic,” Elise said flatly. “The day after Dad’s fiscal board retreat.”
Mrs. Smith sighed, “That’s a terribly inconvenient date, Amy.”
Jack interjected gently, “It’s the spring equinox. Amy thought it was meaningful.”
“I thought you were marrying into the Anderson family,” Blake quipped. “You’re not trying to outshine them, are you?”
Daniel smirked. “Bold move.”
Amy’s jaw tightened, but Jack beat her to it.
“We’re not trying to shine,” he said. “We’re trying to make space where there wasn’t any.”
Elise scoffed. “Is this another one of your flower metaphors?”
“No,” Jack said evenly. “It’s a truth. And I think you all know it.”
Amy glanced up at her father. “Do you?”
He didn’t answer at first. He simply looked at her — really looked at her — for the first time in what felt like years.
“You used to hum,” he said suddenly. “When you were little. I’d come home late from meetings, and you’d be singing to your stuffed lion on the stairs. You stopped around… age eleven.”
“I stopped because you stopped noticing,” Amy replied, her voice steady.
There was silence again.
Elise’s tone turned sharp. “So now we’re rewriting history?”
“No,” Amy said. “Just finally writing my version.”
—
The Confrontation – Later That Night
Amy’s Childhood Room
Elise burst in, cheeks flushed. “You always twist things to make yourself the victim.”
Amy turned slowly from the window. “You pushed me. Lied about me. Blamed me. And they let you.”
“That’s not true—”
“Isn’t it?” Amy’s voice rose slightly. “You told Mom I stole your necklace. You told Dad I skipped a math exam. I lost two scholarships because of you, Elise.”
Elise crossed her arms. “They believed me because I was better.”
Amy blinked. “And that’s what you needed? To be believed so badly, you ruined me?”
There was a long, brutal silence.
“…They never looked at me either,” Elise whispered. “Unless I was golden.”
For a moment, Amy saw it — the mirror. The ache.
“I’m not here to take anything from you,” Amy said. “But I won’t shrink anymore either.”
—
The Next Morning – Study Room
Amy’s Father sat with Jack, unexpected.
“I wanted to speak man-to-man,” he said gruffly.
Jack folded his hands. “Of course.”
He looked away. “My daughter’s had to grow stronger than I ever realized. And you… you see her.”
Jack nodded. “Every scar. Every sunbeam.”
Mr. Smith sighed. “You have my blessing. Not because I expect you to fix what we failed at — but because she’s finally where she belongs.”
He stood. “Thank you for standing up when we didn’t.”
—
Two Weeks Later – Anderson Garden
Antonio spoke with Amy beneath a canopy of early wisteria.
“You’ve done something brave,” he said. “You returned, even when it hurt.”
Amy nodded. “I needed to be seen. Not just loved.”
“You’re both,” Antonio said. “And you’re home.”