Chapter 4

The wedding planner, a flustered woman with a clipboard pressed to her chest, scurried over to us.

"Should we... should we proceed with the ceremony?" she whispered, her eyes wide with panic. The guests were starting to murmur amongst themselves, the initial shock giving way to awkward confusion.

I saw the impatience in Liam's face. He wanted this over with. He wanted me to put the dress back on, pin up the tear, and pretend this never happened, all so he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of his family and friends.

That realization solidified my resolve.

"I just need to change," I said, my voice steady. I turned to walk back towards the bridal suite.

Liam grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly tight. "Change into what, Chloe?" he hissed, his voice a low, furious growl. "You're not backing out of this. Don't you dare humiliate me in front of everyone."

Humiliate him? The irony was so thick I could barely breathe.

I looked down at his hand on my arm, then back up at his angry face. I didn't pull away. Instead, I gave him a small, pitying smile.

"Goodbye, Liam."

I calmly detached his fingers from my arm and walked away without a backward glance.

As I passed a row of decorative bushes near the entrance to the suite, I overheard Brittany's voice, no longer tearful but laced with a smug, feigned regret.

"Oh, Liam, I feel just awful. I've ruined everything."

I paused, hidden from their view.

"No, you haven't," Liam's voice was immediate, soothing, and full of the tenderness he hadn't shown me all day. "She's just being dramatic. She'll cool off. Don't worry about it, Britt. I'll handle it."

Then he said something that made the last bit of my heart turn to stone.

"I'm canceling the reservation at The Oak Room for tonight. I know you hate that place. We'll go get tacos at that place you love by the beach instead, just us. My treat."

The Oak Room was where he had proposed. It was where we were supposed to have our intimate wedding night dinner, just the two of us. He was canceling our celebration and replacing it with her favorite food, at her favorite spot. It was so effortless for him, to erase me from the picture and slot her in.

I continued walking, the sound of their voices fading behind me. I wasn't sad anymore. I wasn't even angry. I just felt... empty. He had never truly seen me. All those times I had thought he was being caring, he was just distracted. His mind, his heart, his focus-they were always somewhere else. With her.

Here's the funny thing: I had already prepared for this.

Not this exact scenario, of course. I never imagined she would physically rip my wedding dress. But I knew, deep down, that this day would likely end in disaster.

This was our third attempt at a wedding.

The first time, a year ago, Brittany had a "sudden medical emergency" the morning of the ceremony. A panic attack, she claimed. Liam rushed to her side, leaving me at the courthouse with our two witnesses. He never even called.

The second time, six months later, he and Brittany got into a massive, drunken argument at our rehearsal dinner the night before. I never found out what it was about, but Liam showed up to my apartment the next morning, hungover and miserable, and said he "couldn't go through with it."

Each time, he gave me a heartfelt, tearful apology. He swore it would be different next time. He promised he would set boundaries with Brittany. He bought me more flowers, more jewelry, and made more empty promises.

And like a fool, I believed him. Or maybe I just wanted to believe him so badly that I ignored the glaring red flags. I' d invested so much time, so much love, so much of myself into this relationship. Walking away felt like admitting failure.

But after the second canceled wedding, a small, cynical part of me started to prepare for the inevitable. I didn't tell my friends I was trying again. I booked the smallest, cheapest venue. And in the bridal suite, hanging next to my ruined wedding gown, was a simple sundress and a suitcase. I had a plane ticket booked for a flight that evening, a non-refundable one-way trip to visit my sister on the other side of the country. I had told myself that if everything went perfectly, I would just cancel the flight.

But I never really believed it would.

Standing in the suite, I felt the vibration of my phone on the dressing table. I picked it up. It was a picture message from an unknown number.

I opened it.

It was a selfie of Liam and Brittany, sitting in a booth at the taco place. He had his arm around her, and she was leaning her head on his shoulder, smiling directly at the camera. She looked smug, happy, and victorious.

I looked at the picture for a long moment. There was no pain, no jealousy, no anger. There was nothing. It was like looking at a picture of two strangers.

A strange sensation started in my chest and spread through my body-a hollow, echoing emptiness. It wasn't painful. It was just... gone. The love I had felt for him, the hope I had for us, had been completely and utterly extinguished.

I was finally free.