Chapter 3

Ryan did not look back.

The chapel doors closed behind him, leaving me beside the marriage license he had abandoned to comfort another woman.

For several seconds, no one spoke.

Our officiant looked down at the engagement ring resting on the unsigned document.

“Would you like me to keep this somewhere safe?”

I picked up the ring.

A pale band circled my finger where I had worn it for eighteen months. I slipped the ring into my makeup bag and closed the zipper.

I did not put it back on.

In the mirror, I was still a bride.

My veil fell past my shoulders. My mother’s pearls rested against my neck. The dress had taken four fittings to make every seam sit perfectly.

Now it made my humiliation visible from across the room.

I reached for the first hairpin.

It caught in my hair and pulled hard enough to sting.

I removed the others one by one until the veil collapsed across the counter.

Ryan’s mother rushed into the room.

“Emma, please don’t leave.”

“He already did.”

“He’s making sure Harper is safe.”

“She kissed him at our wedding.”

“I know, and it was inappropriate.” Her voice softened. “But Ryan will come back. He always comes back to you.”

The words landed with more force than she intended.

Everyone believed Ryan coming back should be enough.

No one seemed to care how many times he left first.

“The guests are still here,” she continued. “The dinner is paid for. Give him twenty minutes. You can finish the ceremony and deal with Harper privately.”

Finish the ceremony.

As if Ryan had stepped away to take a call instead of chasing the woman who had just kissed him.

My mother appeared behind her.

Her eyes moved from my bare hand to the abandoned veil.

“Oh, honey.”

That nearly broke me.

I had imagined her crying today because she was watching me marry the man I loved.

I turned away before the tears could fall.

“I need to leave.”

“You can come home with me,” she said immediately.

I pictured my childhood bedroom, worried relatives and hours of explaining why I had tolerated Ryan for so long.

“I can’t talk about it yet.”

She nodded, even though concern tightened her face.

Ryan’s mother stepped in front of the door.

“If you walk out with Adrian, people will think something was happening before today.”

“They already think that.”

Voices drifted in from the hallway.

“She asked his uncle to marry her?”

“He agreed awfully fast.”

“Maybe Ryan wasn’t the only problem.”

Each sentence reached me clearly.

Six years with Ryan had disappeared in less than five minutes. Now I was the bride with a backup groom.

I walked out anyway.

The reception room looked untouched. Champagne waited in neat rows. Our names were printed together on the place cards.

Emma and Ryan Carter.

My eyes burned.

I had wanted that name when I entered the chapel.

Now Ryan had made it feel like something I had escaped.

Adrian was waiting near the side door.

He had removed his suit jacket. He held it out but did not place it around me.

“Do you want this?”

I nodded.

The jacket covered my bare shoulders. It was warm, but the simple fact that he had asked first made my throat tighten again.

“Where do you want to go?” he said.

No one else had asked me that.

Ryan had told me to finish the wedding.

His mother had told me to wait.

The guests had already decided why I was leaving.

Adrian only asked where I wanted to be.

“I don’t know.”

“Your mother’s house?”

I shook my head.

“I have an empty apartment near the river,” he said. “You can use it tonight. I’ll stay somewhere else.”

I looked at him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you need somewhere Ryan can’t walk into.”

“And what you said in there?”

“That answer can wait until you’re no longer wearing a wedding dress meant for someone else.”

No pressure. No demand that I prove anything.

Just a key placed in my palm.

“I want the apartment,” I said.

Adrian opened the side door.

Cold air touched my face as we stepped into the parking lot.

My phone vibrated.

Ryan.

Harper is finally calm. Stay where you are. I’m coming back to get you.

Not Are you all right?

Not I’m sorry.

He still believed I would be exactly where he had left me.

Another message appeared.

Don’t leave with Adrian. We can fix this.

I opened our location-sharing app.

For six years, Ryan had been able to see where I was. He used it to check whether I had arrived home, whether I was waiting at a restaurant, whether I was still where he expected me to be.

My thumb hovered over his name.

Then I tapped Stop Sharing My Location.

For the first time in six years, Ryan did not know where I was waiting.

Because for the first time, I wasn’t.