The Wedding Where He Chose Her Over Me

Torin didn't follow me to the doors.

He shoved the tablet back at Owen. "It's a coincidence. Northvale has been nervous about Harbor for weeks. Call their office. Fix it."

"Sir, they won't take—"

"Fix it."

Behind him, Sabine swayed. She put two fingers to her temple, and her knees folded at the exact moment Torin turned around.

"Sabine!" He caught her before she hit the marble.

"I'm fine," she whispered, loud enough for the back row. "It's just my heart. All this stress. Seeing you hurt like that..."

"Don't talk." Torin scooped her up in his arms. Her red dress spilled over his sleeve like a flag.

He carried her right past me. His shoulder clipped mine.

He didn't even look down.

Dad's arm went stiff under my hand. "Ellie. That boy just stepped over your veil."

"I saw."

"You're going to let them walk out of here like the victims?"

The side door swung shut behind Torin. Three hundred guests turned back toward me, waiting for the next act.

I let go of Dad's arm.

"No," I said. "I'm not."

I walked back to the altar and dialed the Marquette. The night manager picked up on the second ring.

"Mr. Albrecht, this is Elara Quinn. You offered me the lobby and elevator footage from Thursday."

"Yes, Miss Quinn. I still have it ready."

"Send the full file to the Grand Lyle's tech booth. Unedited. Timestamps on."

He paused. "Publicly?"

"Publicly."

Two minutes later, the screen behind me flickered again.

The same lobby. The same tall man in the dark coat. Only this time, the camera showed what came before.

Me, walking fast. Then stumbling. My hand slapping the wall. My knees giving out.

The man lunged and caught me under the arms before my head hit the floor. He pressed two fingers to my neck and said something to the front desk clerk, who grabbed a phone.

"That's Evren Ward," someone in the fourth row muttered. "The cardiologist from St. Aurelian's. He operated on my mother."

The guests had gone quiet.

In the elevator footage, Evren held my elbow to keep me upright. His head bent toward mine because I was saying my father's room number, over and over.

The doors opened on the ninth floor.

Evren walked me to Room 914. I went in. Dad was sitting on the edge of the bed, gray-faced.

Evren didn't follow. He turned around and walked down the hall to Room 931. Alone.

His door closed.

That was the photo. Room 931. A door I never touched.

The clip ended on a time stamp. Me, leaving my father's room forty minutes later. Evren, already gone.

Nobody laughed this time.

A woman near the aisle lowered her phone. I'd watched her film the slap. Now her thumb hovered over the screen, and she quietly pressed delete.

Another guest did the same. Then another.

The man who'd laughed during the photos stared at his shoes.

"Elara, honey." Torin's aunt, Delphine, stood up from the family section. Her pearls trembled. "We didn't know. If you'd only explained—"

"I tried," I said. "You all watched him knock the phone out of my hand."

Delphine opened her mouth, then sat back down.

Dad stepped up beside me. His voice came out rough. "Feel better?"

I thought about it.

"Not yet."

My cracked phone buzzed against the altar. Torin's name lit the broken screen.

I picked it up. "Yes?"

"Take it down." No hello. He was breathing hard, and I could hear hospital monitors beeping behind him. "The video. Take it down right now."

"Why?"

"Because it's everywhere, Elara! People are tearing Sabine apart online. They're calling her a liar, a homewrecker. She had a heart attack in the car!"

"A heart attack."

"Are you laughing?" His voice cracked. "She's in the ER!"

I hadn't realized I was smiling. My cheek still throbbed where he'd hit me.

I tapped the speaker button and held the phone up toward the room.

"Say that again, Torin," I said. "I want to make sure I understand."

"Understand what? She just misunderstood! Do you really have to destroy her?"

His voice bounced off the high ceiling and settled over three hundred people.

Nobody moved. Somewhere in the back, a glass clinked against a table.

"She misunderstood," I repeated. "And you slapped your wife in front of everyone she knows. What did you misunderstand, Torin?"

The line went quiet.

"Elara, you're on speaker, aren't you?"

I ended the call.

Then I dialed Gideon.

"The papers," I said. "Are they ready?"

"Printed and waiting," he said. "Where should I send them?"

"Nowhere. I'll deliver them myself. St. Aurelian's emergency department."

—

Gideon drove Dad home. I took a cab across town, still in my wedding dress, the folded veil tucked under my arm.

The ER nurse at the desk blinked at me. "Ma'am, are you hurt?"

"Sabine Rourke. Which room?"

She pointed down the hall without a word.

Through the half-open curtain, I saw Sabine propped against the pillows, scrolling her phone and frowning. Her color was perfect. Torin sat beside her, holding her hand.

I pulled the curtain back.

Sabine yanked the blanket up to her chin. Torin shot to his feet.

"What are you doing here?"

I held out the envelope. "Divorce papers. Gideon flagged where to sign."

He didn't take it. Just like the ring.

So I set it on the foot of Sabine's bed.

"You came all the way here to do this?" Torin's voice dropped low. "While she's lying in a hospital bed?"

"She looks fine to me."

Sabine's mouth fell open. "My heart—"

"Your monitor says seventy-two beats a minute," I said. "Mine was higher when he hit me."

I turned and left.

Footsteps pounded behind me before I reached the exit.

"Elara! Wait!"

The automatic doors slid open. Cold air hit my bare shoulders.

A black sedan idled at the curb. Evren Ward stood beside it in the same dark coat from the footage, one hand already on the rear door.

He opened it for me.

"Your father called," he said quietly. "He told me you might need a ride."

"He was right."

"Elara!" Torin burst through the doors behind me, out of breath. "Who is that? Is that him? Is that the man from the video?"

I gathered my skirt and slid into the back seat.

I didn't turn around.

Evren closed the door, glanced once at Torin, and walked around to the driver's side.

Through the tinted glass, I watched Torin's reflection grow smaller in the side mirror. He was still standing on the sidewalk, phone in hand, mouth moving.

Evren pulled into traffic. After a block, he spoke without looking back.

"He's going to start digging, you know. Into who you really are."

I leaned my head against the cold window.

"Let him dig," I said. "He won't like what's buried there."