Chapter 6
I blocked everything out and bolted straight for the elevator, frantically jabbing the down button.
The doors slid open, and I dashed inside, hammering the close button, not caring about the people chasing after me.
The elevator began its descent.
In the cramped space, all I could hear was my own harsh, rapid breathing and the pounding of my heart, as if it might leap right out of my chest.
The mirror showed how much of a mess I was. My perfectly styled hair came loose, the crown crooked. And even though my makeup was still on point, it couldn't hide the hopeless look drained of all color from my face.
Pathetic, really.
Yeah, Harley.
Just a few hours ago, you thought you finally had happiness in your grasp, thinking you were about to be the bride everyone would envy.
Now look at you, running around like a madwoman in this ridiculous wedding dress, hunting for a groom who might never even turn up.
The elevator reached the first floor.
The moment the doors opened, I tore out of there, sprinting through the lobby without a second thought.
Out on the early morning streets, passersby shot me stunned, wide-eyed looks.
A woman in a glamorous wedding dress, tearing down the street as if she had gone off the deep end. It was a scene straight out of a fever dream.
I flagged down a cab, yanked the door open, and dove inside.
"Whoa, what's with the dress?" The driver blurted out, clearly freaked by my appearance.
"East Pier! Now!" My voice was hoarse and urgent and brooked no argument.
The driver looked spooked by my state, didn't ask any more questions, and just floored it, merging into traffic.
As the car sped along, my phone kept buzzing nonstop.
Calls from the wedding planner, the hotel, relatives, and friends. Names flashed across the screen, each one like a string of doom-laden summons, relentless and suffocating.
I didn't pick up a single call.
I stared straight ahead, my nails digging so deep into the soft flesh of my palm that I should've felt pain, but I didn't.
Compared to the world inside me shattering faster than I could grasp, this sting in my hand was nothing.
The car screeched to a halt at East Pier's private marina.
I shoved a bill at the driver, didn't bother waiting for change, and nearly tripped as I gathered up my heavy wedding dress and stumbled out of the car.
Luxury yachts of every shape and size lined the dock.
The salty sea breeze crashed into me, tangling my already messy hair and sending my veil whipping madly in the wind.
My eyes instantly landed on Edmund's iconic white yacht, the Harlemond.
He had named it by blending our names together.
Back then, I thought that was the most romantic thing in the world.
Now, looking at that name, all I could feel was how painfully ironic it was.
The yacht was quietly moored, gently bobbing with the waves.
It looked like the deck was empty.
Practically scrambling up the gangway in my heels, I tripped and nearly fell with every step.
"Edmund!" I yelled, my voice raw, as I barged into the yacht's spacious lounge.
The lounge was empty. No one in sight, just a bunch of half-drunk bottles and glasses littering the table.
My heart hammered even faster, a wave of fear so intense it was making it hard to breathe.
I made my way deeper into the yacht, heading for the cabins.
Just as I reached the master bedroom door, before I could even push it open, the sound of laughter and banter from inside hit me like a shard of ice, slicing right through me and leaving me frozen on the spot.
It was Edmund's voice.
He spoke with a lazy, mocking edge I had never heard before. It was clear, cold, and cutting straight through the air.
Edmund said, "Seriously? Did you guys actually think I was madly in love with her or something?"
"Chasing after Harley?" Edmund scoffed, his voice dripping with open contempt and mockery. "Honestly, I never even liked her. I just wanted to mess with Orville."
Hearing Edmund spit out Orville's name like that, it felt like an invisible hand was crushing my heart. I could barely breathe.