CHAPTER ONE
BETH
The wedding dress is a vise. The bodice squeezes my lungs, the skirt pools at my feet—so much fabric, so much expectation.
I stare at my reflection—a stranger with elaborate curls and flawless makeup that took two hours to create. My mother’s pearl necklace feels like a shackle, cold and heavy against my skin.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Mom’s voice is breathless as she fluffs my veil yet again. “Clark won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
I smile, the hollow, practiced kind that makes my cheeks stiff. It satisfies her. “Thanks, Mom.”
She steps back and presses a hand to her heart, eyes shining. “I’ve waited for this day since you were born.”
I bite back the wordsyouwaited, not me.
This is the life I’m supposed to want: the picture-perfect wedding, the steady husband, happiness boxed into neat lines like the hopscotch patterns I traced as a child.
“Forty minutes, ladies!” the wedding planner sings from the hallway.
Mom squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll check on your dad. Don’t wrinkle the dress.” She kisses my cheek and sweeps out, leaving Chanel No. 5 and nerves clinging to the air behind her.
I finally exhale.
Alone, the bridal suite feels cavernous. My bouquet sits on the vanity—white roses and baby’s breath. Traditional. Safe. Just like this entire day.
Something’s missing. It has been for a long time—a hollow stretching beneath my ribs, too deep for vows or champagne to fill.
My phone buzzes in the little satin purse Stephanie claimed I needed. Stephanie—maid of honor, golden child, everything I’m not.
A text from Lori:Are you good? Need rescue?
Lori knows. She was the only one who caught my hesitation when Clark proposed at my parents’ anniversary dinner, the only one who noticed my voice tremble as I agreed.
I type,I’m fine. Just nerves.
The lie looks cheap. I erase it.
Where are you?I send.
Hiding from your Aunt Martha. She’s matchmaking again.
A genuine smile breaks through, my first today. I don’t know what I would ever do without Lori.
I need a break. Five minutes is all I want, five minutes away from the perfume, expectations, and the dress in the mirror that fits someone I don’t know.
I gather up the ridiculous skirt and slip through the door into the silent hallway.
Right, wasn’t the garden this way? If I move quickly, I can steal a sliver of freedom and be back before anyone notices.
A low laugh stops me. It brushes the air, intimate and familiar.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” A woman, breathless. Too close.
“I can’t wait until later. Six months, and you still drive me crazy.” Clark’s voice. Impossible to mistake.
“Harder, baby,” Stephanie gasps. “Fuck me harder.”
For a heartbeat, everything freezes. My body carries me forward as if I have no say.
