Chapter 1

Here we are, at the wedding, standing at the altar, the priest in front of us. This is the greatest day of my life, I won’t even pretend otherwise.

My heart’s racing, but it’s not nerves. It’s excitement. Pure, unfiltered joy. Everything I’ve ever dreamed of is coming to life right here, right now. 

Brandon’s standing beside me, looking like he’s carved from stone, his suit perfectly tailored, his hair slicked back like he just stepped out of a magazine. He squeezes my hand gently, and I can feel the warmth of his touch. This is it. This is real. 

The priest clears his throat before he speaks, “If anyone has any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.” 

I let out the tiniest breath of relief, knowing...just knowing that no one’s going to say anything. Who would? Everyone here loves us. This is perfect. 

But then, like something out of a bad movie, it happens. 

“I object.” 

The words came right into the room, sharp and cold.

My heart stutters in my chest as everyone turns to look. There she is. A blonde. Short black dress that screams trouble.

Her makeup is dark, almost theatrical, with smoky eyes that could burn holes through you and lashes so long they look like they could carry her away if she blinked hard enough. 

She’s smiling. No, smirking. It’s the kind of smirk that makes your stomach drop, like you already know this isn’t going to end well.

She starts walking toward us, her heels clicking against the floor, each step echoing in my ears. 

The priest looks flustered but manages to ask, “Who are you?” 

She stops, tilting her head like she’s considering how much damage she can do before answering.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,” she says, her tone filled with mockery. “Pray for me, won’t you? I’m Brandon’s fuck buddy.” 

My heart stops. It actually stops.

I’m frozen, staring at her, my mind racing but going absolutely nowhere at the same time.

What did she just say? 

I glance at Brandon. He’s glaring at her, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps at her.

It's pretty clear that he knows her.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” she purrs, brushing off his anger like it’s nothing. “I thought you’d appreciate me telling your fiancée the truth. You’ve been screwing me for months, Brandon. Hell, we had sex this morning, didn’t we?” 

The room erupts into gasps and whispers, but I don’t hear any of it. My ears are ringing, my vision tunneling.

This...this can’t be real. 

“Shut the hell up!” Brandon snarls at her, stepping forward. But she doesn’t.

“Oh, relax,” she snaps back, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “I’m just doing her a favor. Better she knows now, right?” 

I don’t move. I don’t say anything. I don’t know what to say. My head is spinning.

Do I believe her? Do I trust Brandon? I thought I did, but now…? 

I’m looking at him, searching for something...anything that tells me this isn’t true. But his face is a storm, all anger and no answers. 

God, I thought I knew him. I thought I knew what kind of person he was.

Could he really…? No.

But then again, how would I know? How would I ever know?

“Is it true?”  I finally manage to ask Brandon, my voice a whisper.

The blonde laughs, stepping closer and tapping my shoulder like we’re old friends.

“Oh, honey, don’t stress yourself. He’s not going to tell you the truth. Men like him? They never do.” 

I glare at her, my anger very clear, before I turn back to Brandon. “Tell me. Tell me the truth, Brandon.” 

He sighs heavily, dragging a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. He doesn’t say anything, and that silence feels louder than the whispers spreading through the room. 

The blonde chuckles, crossing her arms. “See? He won’t admit it. But don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not done yet.”

She turns to Brandon, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “I’ve got a surprise for you, love. Oh, and just so you know, I adore the sex. God, it feels so good when you make me moan your name every single day.” 

“Enough!” the priest snaps at her. “Mind your words. This is a sacred space.” 

The blonde laughs louder, throwing her head back like she finds all of this amusing.

“Oh, Father, I can’t help it. Your boy here is just...irresistible. And now...” she places a hand on her stomach. “I’m pregnant.” 

The room erupts into chaos. Gasps. Whispers. People murmuring behind their hands. But all I can hear is my heartbeat, pounding in my ears. 

This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Is this a dream? A nightmare? 

I look at Brandon, my vision blurred with tears. He steps toward me like he wants to explain, to touch me, but I take a step back, shaking my head. 

“Don’t,” I snap, my voice breaking. “Don’t come closer.” 

My hands tremble as I throw my bouquet to the floor. Tears spill over as I shake my head again, my chest heaving.

“How...how could you?” I ask, the words barely coming out of my mouth. 

And then I run. Out the door. Away from him. Away from everything.

****

I push through the bar’s door, where I usually work at night, the familiar scent of alcohol and stale air hitting me like a wave.

It’s quiet...too early for the usual crowd.

Good. I don’t want people, questions, or sympathy.

Ben’s behind the counter, wiping down glasses like always. He looks up, furrowing his brows the moment he spots me in my wedding dress.

“Aria? What the hell? Why aren’t you..”

“Don’t,” I snap, cutting him off before he can finish. “It's none of your business. Just give me a drink.”

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t move. “You okay? You don’t look...”

“I said it’s none of your business!” My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I don’t care.

Ben holds up his hands, backing off. “Alright, alright. Take it easy.”

He grabs a bottle of whiskey and slides it over. “Here. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I grab the bottle without a word and head to the farthest table in the corner. Sitting down, I twist the cap off and take a long swig, the burn in my throat a welcome distraction from the ache in my chest.

The scene replays in my mind, over and over. Her smug face, Brandon’s silence, the words I’m pregnant. My stomach churns, but I keep drinking.

I’m a mess. A total, broken mess.

How did this become my life? How did I go from being so happy, so sure, to...this? I don’t even know if I want to keep going.

The bottle’s halfway empty when it hits me..Oh crap, I’m going to be sick.

I stumble to the side, throwing up as my body rebels. I do work as a bartender, but I'm terrible when it comes to alcohol. Very very terrible, and I continue drinking, like it's the end of the world. But if it was, that would have been really nice.

Chapter 2

The cold night air bites at my skin as I stumble out of the bar, the whiskey swimming in my veins and my wedding dress dragging across the damp pavement.

I don’t care where I’m going—only that I can’t go back. Not to Brandon, not to the chapel, not to the wreckage of what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life.

My chest aches, a hollow, gnawing pain that grows with every step I take. The weight of the betrayal is crushing. My mind keeps replaying the blonde’s smug face, her words like daggers: I’m pregnant.

I turn down a dimly lit alley, hoping to find some solace in the shadows. Instead, I hear voices.

“Well, well, what do we have here?”

I freeze. Three men step out from behind a dumpster, their faces obscured by the darkness but their intentions unmistakable.

“Nice dress,” one of them sneers, his voice dripping with mockery. “You lost, sweetheart?”

Panic sets in, my pulse thundering in my ears. I take a step back, but they close the distance, their leering eyes raking over me like I’m some prize they’ve just won.

“Stay back,” I manage to choke out, my words trembling.

“Oh, come on,” another one says, his grin predatory. “We just want to have a little fun.”

I turn and run, the train of my dress catching on something and tearing as I sprint down the alley. My breath comes in ragged gasps, my heart pounding like it’s trying to escape my chest.

I don’t look back. I can’t.

The street comes into view, and I make a break for it, the sound of their laughter echoing behind me. But then there’s a blinding flash of headlights and the deafening screech of tires.

Pain explodes through me as I’m thrown to the ground. The world tilts and spins before fading into darkness.

****

When I wake up, the first thing I notice is the smell—antiseptic and something faintly floral. The second thing is the sharp, throbbing pain in my head.

I blink against the harsh overhead light, my vision slowly coming into focus. White walls. Machines beeping. A hospital.

“Hey, you’re awake.”

The voice is soft, soothing, and unfamiliar. I turn my head, wincing at the ache in my neck, and see a man sitting by my bed.

He’s...stunning. Pale skin that contrasts sharply with his dark hair, tattoos peeking out from the collar of his shirt, and piercing blue eyes that seem to see straight through me.

“You hit your head pretty hard,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “But the doctors say you’ll be fine. Just some bruises and a mild concussion.”

I stare at him, my brain sluggishly trying to process what’s happening. “Who...who are you?”

“Harry,” he says with a small smile. “I’m the guy who almost ran you over.”

Oh.

“You’re the one who hit me?” I ask, and I can hear my voice cracking. Oh gosh, it's miserable. So fucking miserable.

“Technically, you hit me,” he replies, his tone light. “You ran right in front of my car. But, yeah, I guess you could say I’m the reason you’re here.”

I don’t know whether to be grateful or angry.

“What were you even doing out there?” he asks, his expression shifting to one of concern. “And in a wedding dress, no less?”

The reminder of the dress—of everything—hits me like a punch to the gut. Tears well up in my eyes before I can stop them, and I turn my head away, embarrassed.

“Hey, hey,” Harry says softly, his hand hovering like he’s not sure if he should touch me. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not you,” I mutter, swiping at my cheeks. “It’s...everything.”

He doesn’t press, just leans back in his chair and waits. Something about his presence is...comforting. Like he’s not expecting anything from me, just willing to sit there until I’m ready to talk.

“I ran away from my wedding,” I finally admit, and by voice is barely above a whisper.

His brows lift slightly, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods for me to continue.

“My fiancé...he cheated on me. With some blonde who showed up at the ceremony and announced she’s pregnant with his child.”

Harry lets out a low whistle. “Ouch.”

“Yeah,” I say, laughing bitterly. “Ouch.”

For a moment, we sit in silence, the beeping of the machines the only sound. Then Harry leans forward again, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Well, for what it’s worth,” he says, “I’m glad you ran.”

I blink at him, confused.

“If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you,” he adds with a small, lopsided smile.

It’s such a strange thing to say, so unexpected, that I let out a surprised laugh.

It’s the first time I’ve laughed—really laughed—since this whole nightmare began, and it feels oddly freeing.

“Thanks, I guess,” I say, meeting his gaze.

His smile widens slightly, and I have to say, at this point, since the whole darkness hit me too hard, crushing my heart like a terrifying seizure, I feel a flicker of something other than pain.

Chapter 3

The park is quiet, the kind of peace I didn’t know I needed. Harry and I walk along a gravel path, the crisp air brushing against my skin.

I can still feel the aches from the accident, but they’re dull, far less painful than the mess in my chest.

Harry carries two cups of coffee, one of which he handed me earlier, and every now and then, he glances at me like he’s trying to figure me out.

“So,” he finally says, breaking the silence, “running away from a wedding and getting hit by a car—that’s gotta be a hell of a story.”

I snort, kicking a stray pebble. “You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Well, I’ve got time.” He grins, his expression inviting but not pushy.

I sigh, taking a sip of the coffee before sitting on a bench under a large oak tree. Harry follows, settling beside me and watching as I stare at the ground.

“My fiancé—ex-fiancé, I guess—cheated on me,” I begin to talk, my voice soft to the fullest.

“Not just cheated, though. He got her pregnant. And she showed up at our wedding to announce it.”

“Wow,” Harry says after a beat. “That’s...seriously messed up.”

“Yeah,” I agree, laughing bitterly. “And the worst part? I didn’t see it coming. I thought I knew him. Thought I could trust him.”

Harry leans back, resting his arm along the back of the bench. “You loved him.”

I nod, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

“I did. I mean, I thought he was my forever, you know? We were together for three years. I thought we had this perfect, unshakable relationship.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, just lets me talk, which I appreciate more than I can express.

“I feel so stupid,” I admit, my voice cracking. “How could I not have seen it? How could I have been so blind?”

“Hey,” he says gently, his voice warm and steady. “Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for his garbage choices. That’s on him, not you.”

I look at him, surprised by the conviction in his tone.

“For real,” he continues. “You trusted him because you’re a good person. He broke that trust because he’s an idiot.”

“Thanks,” I whisper.

I don't know, but literally, there's this dance of something within me. It's stirring within my heart. Probably validation, or I don't know if I can even grasp it.

Harry shrugs, offering me a small smile. “Anytime. And for what it’s worth, he doesn’t deserve you. Not even close.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tightness in my chest easing just a little.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask after a moment.

Harry chuckles, his blue eyes twinkling. “Maybe I just like fixing broken things.”

Later that evening, I’m back at my tiny apartment, curled up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of tea.

My wedding dress is crumpled in a heap by the door, a painful reminder of the day I’d rather forget.

There’s a knock, sharp and insistent. I freeze, my heart lurching in my chest.

When I open the door, Brandon is standing there, disheveled and desperate.

“Aria,” he says, and I can see how emotional he is. But it's making me sick.

“Please, let me in.”

I hesitate, gripping the edge of the door. “Why are you here, Brandon?”

“I need to talk to you,” he replies quickly. “I need to explain.”

I cross my arms, leaning against the frame.

“Explain what? That you cheated on me? That you got someone else pregnant? That you let me stand there at the altar while you—”

My voice breaks, and I stop, shaking my head.

“Aria, please,” he says, stepping closer. “It wasn’t like that. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

“Oh, so it just...happened?” I snap, my anger flaring. “What, you just tripped and fell into her bed?”

He flinches but doesn’t back down. “It was a mistake. A stupid, horrible mistake. I wasn’t thinking—”

“No,” I cut him off, and my voice is rising with each word.

“You were thinking. You thought about yourself. You didn’t think about me, about us.”

Brandon runs a hand through his hair, looking utterly defeated.

“I love you, Aria. I messed up, but I love you. Please, let me fix this.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it.

“Fix it? How, Brandon? How do you fix this?”

“Just give me another chance,” he pleads. “I’ll do anything. I’ll make it right.”

I step back, shaking my head. “You can’t make it right. You broke us, Brandon. You broke me.”

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away. There's no way I'm going to cry. And even if I do, it's not in front of him.

“I thought I knew you. I thought I could trust you. But now...I don’t even know who you are.”

“Aria,” he whispers. His tone is breaking when he calls my name. I'm just staring at him, because he is the funniest idiot I've met in this world.

“Leave,” I say firmly, my hand tightening on the door. “We’re done.”

He stares at me for a long moment, his shoulders slumping. Then, without another word, he turns and walks away.

I close the door and lean against it, my chest heaving with sobs.

I did the right thing.

So why does it hurt so much?