Chapter 1
"Graham, if I don't marry Julian today, will you still marry her?"
Sienna stood in the doorway, clutching the skirt of her dress, its hem marked with dirty footprints, her chest heaving and her once-neat veil hanging crookedly to one side.
Gasps rippled through the room, and the minister stopped mid-sentence.
I stood at the altar, still holding the card with the vows I'd only half finished reading.
A second earlier, Graham had been holding my right hand, his thumb resting against the lines of my palm.
Seven years together, from a cramped shared apartment to this altar covered in white roses, and just that morning, he'd whispered in my ear, "Natalie, all of that is behind us. Today is just about you and me."
But now, the warmth of his hand was gone.
Graham had pulled his fingers away almost the instant he heard her voice.
He didn't look at me, but turned sharply, his gaze sweeping past the rows of guests and landing straight on her disheveled figure.
The phone in his suit pocket was still vibrating discreetly.
His screen had lit up countless times since early that morning.
Each time, he'd quickly swiped it open, saying he needed to "confirm a few details with the coordinator."
I'd chosen to trust him, even calmly straightening his tie after learning that Sienna had booked her wedding in another ballroom at the very same hotel.
"Graham," I said, my voice low and tight with strain, "we haven't finished our vows."
He didn't turn around, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
My mother had already risen from her seat in the front row, stunned, and the murmurs among the guests were growing louder.
Sienna took a step forward, her heels making a dull thud against the carpet.
Her face was deathly pale, her eyes red as she stared at him. "You promised me last night. You said all I had to do was ask…"
"Sienna, not here."
Graham's voice was painfully hoarse.
He didn't deny it, didn't call security, didn't even glance at me to offer the slightest reassurance.
He stepped down from the altar, onto the steps draped in white velvet.
One step, then another.
His dress shoes struck the marble floor with a sharp, jarring click.
Now his back was to me as he walked toward another woman in a wedding dress.
"Graham!" His best man reached out to stop him, but he brushed him off.
He stopped in front of Sienna, his hands trembling slightly at his sides.
"Have you lost your mind? Your groom, Julian, is right next door. Whatever you need to say, let's talk outside."
Sienna tilted her face up, tears streaking her carefully applied makeup.
"Then tell me. If I change my mind right now, will you still marry her?"
Graham stood frozen, his back rigid with tension.
He didn't pull away when she gripped the front of his jacket.
I was the only one left at the altar.
Wind swept through the wide-open doors, lifting my veil and brushing it against my cold cheeks.
I looked down at the crumpled card in my hand, at the promise I'd been about to read aloud—for better or worse, I will always choose you.
But my groom was standing in front of another bride.