Chapter 3 - The Broken Vows

The wedding coordinator poked her head into the bridal suite,

beaming with excitement.

“Elena! You’re up! Everyone is waiting,

and the groom is supposed to be at the altar!” She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the expression on my face and Julian standing frozen beside me.

“Is.

.

.

is everything alright?” she asked,

her smile fading instantly.

“Everything is wonderfully clear,

” I said,

stepping past her into the brightly lit hallway.

“Wait,

where are you going?” Julian hissed,

scrambling after me.

“To make an announcement,

” I replied without looking back.

My heart pounded against my ribs like a trapped bird,

but my stride remained steady.

The long hallway led directly to the grand oak doors of the chapel.

Through the heavy wood,

I could hear the murmur of three hundred expectant guests.

My parents sat in the front row,

smiling proudly,

completely unaware that their daughter’s life was actively detonating.

Julian caught up to me just as my hand reached the brass handle of the chapel doors.

“Elena,

stop!” he hissed,

grabbing my arm with bruising force.

“If you ruin this for me,

you’ll regret it.

” “Are you threatening me?” I asked,

turning my head to glare at him with absolute fire.

“Release my arm right now,

or I swear I will scream.

” He hesitated,

weighing the risk of a public scene against the catastrophe of exposure.

Slowly,

his fingers loosened,

and he let go.

“Please,

” he whispered one last time,

his voice cracking.

“Don’t do this.

” “You should have thought about that before you lied to me for three years,

” I retorted.

I pushed the heavy oak doors wide open.

The sudden flood of bright sunlight and warm candlelight spilled into the foyer.

The string quartet hit the crescendo of the bridal march.

All three hundred heads turned toward the entrance,

expecting to see a blushing bride gliding down the runner toward her happily ever after.

Instead,

they saw me standing alone in the doorway,

my veil thrown back,

holding a crumpled legal document in one hand.

A hush fell over the room so profound you could hear a pin drop.

My mother gasped,

half-rising from her seat in the front row.

“Elena,

darling? What’s wrong with your dress?” I stepped forward onto the white runner,

my heels clicking sharply against the polished hardwood floor.

Julian trailed behind me like a whipped dog,

pale and trembling.

I walked past the flower arrangements,

past the glowing candles,

and straight up to the altar where the officiant stood holding an open Bible.

The officiant blinked in confusion,

lowering his glasses.

“Um.

.

.

dear,

the bride traditionally enters with her father,

and the ceremony hasn't quite—’ “There will be no ceremony today,

” I announced into the wireless microphone clipped to the pulpit.

My voice echoed clearly through the massive sound system,

bouncing off the vaulted ceilings.

Murmurs erupted instantly from the pews.

People shifted uncomfortably,

whispering to their neighbors.

My father marched down the center aisle,

looking furious and bewildered.

“Elena,

what is the meaning of this childish stunt?” he demanded,

stepping up to the altar.

“Get back to the suite and fix your veil.

” “Dad,

look at this,

” I said calmly,

handing him the marriage certificate.

My father snatched the paper skeptically,

his eyes scanning the printed text.

Within seconds,

the color drained entirely from his face,

matching Julian's ghastly pallor.

“What.

.

.

what is this?” my father stammered,

his hands shaking.

“It’s Julian’s wedding certificate,

” I replied loudly enough for the front rows to hear.

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“To another woman.

” Chaos erupted in the chapel.