He Wore My Wedding Suit

Summary

I was adjusting my bow tie in the dressing room of our engagement party when Ruth brought that impoverished junior from her college inside.

"Troy got his suit dirty," she said, her voice breezy, as if she were asking to borrow a pen. "Let him wear yours for a bit."

I froze, my fingers still tangled in the silk.

She offered a small, dismissive shrug. "Everyone knows you’re the groom today anyway, Christopher. It doesn't matter what you wear."

Troy stood hovering near the doorway. His canvas sneakers were scrubbed raw, practically fraying at the seams, and he looked down at his feet…