Close But Far Away
Two minutes.
Emery stood alone in the bride’s room, her fingers trembling as she stared at her phone screen.
She was still wearing the sparkling peachy-pink maxi dress, the only addition being Camilla’s delicate ivory veil now pinned into her long chestnut-brown hair.
The soft waves framed her face, and the bangs clung slightly to her damp forehead. Her stormy eyes were red-rimmed and glassy with unshed tears.
She tried calling Jesse one last time.
The line went straight to voicemail.
“Power off,” the automated voice said.
She swallowed a sob and tried again. Same result. His phone was completely dead. There was no way to reach him, no way to tell him what was happening, no way to beg him to come and stop this nightmare.
In two minutes, she would walk out onto that lawn and exchange vows with Alexander Prescott... her boss, her husband, a man she barely knew beyond polite office greetings.
The door opened softly. Harold stepped inside, his face etched with a mixture of relief and lingering guilt. He looked at her with wet eyes.
“My dear… they’re ready.”
Emery quickly slipped her phone into the small hidden pocket of her dress and forced a shaky nod. “Alright.”
Harold crossed the room and took her cold hand in both of his. His voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you so much, Emery.”
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her stormy eyes. “This is how I can repay an ounce of your kindness,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
Harold’s expression crumpled. “An ounce?” He shook his head slowly. “You repay it all.”
“No,” she said softly, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I can never repay your kindness.”
Harold pulled her into a gentle embrace, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. His lips lingered there for a long moment, as if he could somehow transfer strength to the fragile girl he had raised.
“You are saving us today,” he murmured against her hair. “I will never forget this.”
He stepped back, still holding her hand, and offered her a small, grateful smile through his own glassy eyes. “Come, my dear. It’s time.”
Emery let him lead her out of the bride’s room, the ivory veil trailing behind her like a ghost of the wedding that was never meant to be hers. Her slender frame felt impossibly heavy with every step toward the lawn, the sparkling peachy-pink dress catching the sunlight as if mocking her pain.
She was walking toward Alexander.
And somewhere in the city, stuck in traffic with a dead phone, Jesse had no idea that the woman he loved was about to become his sister-in-law.
×××××××
The string quartet swelled into the final notes of the processional as Emery walked slowly down the petal-strewn aisle on Harold’s arm.
The sparkling peachy-pink maxi dress shimmered under the late afternoon sun, the borrowed ivory veil floating behind her like a cruel afterthought.
Her stormy eyes were fixed on the ground, long waves framing a face that had gone deathly pale beneath its natural rosy tone. Every step felt like walking toward her own execution.
Alexander stood tall and rigid at the altar, his composed features tight with reluctance. He offered her a small, gentle nod when she reached him, a silent acknowledgment of the shared nightmare they were both trapped in.
The officiant’s voice rang out, calm and steady, as if this were any other wedding.
“Do you, Alexander Prescott, take Emery Lane to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
Alexander hesitated for half a heartbeat, then answered in a low, controlled voice. “I do.”
The officiant turned to her.
“Do you, Emery Lane, take Alexander Prescott to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
Emery’s lips parted. A single tear slipped down her cheek. Her voice was barely a whisper, trembling with unshed sobs. “I… I do.”
At that exact moment, Jesse Prescott burst onto the edge of the lawn, breathing hard, the small velvet box of rings still clutched forgotten in his hand.
His navy suit was slightly rumpled from the frantic drive, the pink button-down clinging to his frame. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his eyes widened in pure horror as they locked onto the scene before him.
Emery.
His Emery, standing at the altar in a veil that wasn’t hers, saying “I do” to his own brother.
His jaw dropped. The world tilted violently beneath his feet. What the hell was she even doing here? Why was she wearing that veil?
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, the words slicing through the air like a blade. “You may kiss the bride.”
Alexander leaned down slowly, pressing the briefest, most impersonal kiss to Emery’s trembling lips, a gesture empty of joy, heavy with duty and grief.
Ivy appeared at his side, her voice an urgent whisper. “Jesse, the rings. Pass them on.”
He didn’t even look at her. His gaze remained locked on Emery, on the woman he had held and loved in secret for three years, now legally bound to his elder brother.
“Who is that?” he rasped, voice cracking. “That’s not Camilla.”
Ivy glanced at him, surprised by the raw anguish on his face. “That’s Camilla’s cousin. Camilla ran away at the last minute. She’s the replacement. They pressured her into it to save the families from total humiliation.”
“What?”
Jesse’s heart tore apart in his chest. A raw, visceral pain ripped through him, so sharp he thought he might actually scream.
He wanted to lunge forward, shove his brother aside, drag Emery away from this nightmare and roar that she was his, that she had always been his. He wanted to stop the entire farce, to demand answers, to beg her not to do this.
But his legs wouldn’t move. His body was frozen in place, rooted to the grass as if the earth itself had betrayed him. The rings dug into his palm, forgotten.
Emery lifted her stormy eyes then and saw him.
Their gazes collided across the short distance. For one devastating second, everything they had shared flashed between them: stolen nights in that hotel room, whispered promises, the desperate fight, the way he had pushed her away with cruel words about needing a break.
Her lips parted on a silent, heartbroken gasp. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she stared at the man she loved, now watching her become his sister-in-law.
Jesse’s breath shattered. His dark eyes burned with unspoken agony, possessive fury, and crushing guilt. He wanted to scream her name. He wanted to storm up the aisle and tear her out of Alexander’s arms.
Instead, he stood paralyzed, the velvet box trembling in his white-knuckled grip, every beat of his heart screaming that he had just lost her forever in the worst possible way.
The guests began to applaud politely, unaware of the silent earthquake ripping through the two lovers. Alexander offered Emery his arm, his face a mask of controlled sorrow, and they turned together as husband and wife.
Jesse remained frozen at the edge of the lawn, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows that seemed to swallow him whole. His brother’s new wife, the only woman he had ever truly loved, walked past him without a word, her veil fluttering like a white flag of surrender.
And in that moment, something inside Jesse Prescott broke irreparably.
×××××××
The black SUV rolled away from the wedding venue, the celebratory music and polite applause fading behind them.
Jesse gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, sweat slicking his palms despite the air conditioning.
His hands trembled faintly, betraying the storm raging inside him. In the passenger seat sat Alexander, silent and composed as ever in his charcoal suit. In the back, Ivy sat beside Emery, the new Mrs. Prescott.
Emery still wore the sparkling peachy-pink dress and the borrowed ivory veil, now slightly askew.
Her hair framed her tear-streaked face, eyes red and swollen. She stared out the window, trying desperately to hold herself together, but the weight of the day was crushing her.
Jesse drove in rigid silence, jaw clenched beneath his light stubble, eyes fixed on the road. He was trying so hard to keep everything in... the rage, the heartbreak, the possessive fury that threatened to spill out and destroy everything. Every breath felt like glass in his lungs.
Then he heard it.
A soft gasp. A hitch in her breath. An innocent little hiccup.
Emery was crying.
The sound sliced through him like a knife. He hated it. He had always hated hearing her cry.
Alexander sighed quietly and turned in his seat, his calm, observant eyes softening with reluctant concern. “Miss Lane… Emery,” he corrected gently. “Please don’t punish yourself like this. This isn’t your fault.”
At his words, Emery’s quiet tears turned into harder, broken sobs. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to muffle them, but they spilled out anyway... raw, fragile, and utterly devastating.
Ivy leaned toward the front. “Jesse, stop the car.”
He didn’t hesitate. The moment the words left her mouth, Jesse yanked the wheel and pulled over to the side of the quiet road, the tires crunching on gravel.
He killed the engine and hopped out immediately, unable to bear another second of her sobs without losing control. The cool evening air hit his face, but it did nothing to calm the fire in his chest.
Alexander followed him out, closing the door softly behind him. He glanced back at Ivy through the window. “Stay with her. Console her, please.”
Inside the car, Ivy murmured gentle words to Emery, rubbing her back soothingly.
Outside, a few feet away from the SUV, Alexander turned to his younger brother. Jesse was pacing, running a shaky hand through his dark brown hair, his lean athletic frame coiled with tension.
“What the hell happened back there?” Jesse demanded, voice low and rough, barely holding back the storm. “What kind of hurricane came through that you ended up married to the wrong woman? That wasn’t Camilla. That was… Emery. Her cousin.”
Alexander exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.
He kept his tone even, assuming Jesse’s reaction was simply shock at the sudden chaos.
“Camilla ran away right before the ceremony. Left a note saying she loved someone else. Harold was desperate... the media was there, guests were watching, our reputations on the line. He begged us to let Emery step in as a replacement to avoid total humiliation for both families. It was… crisis management. Nothing more.”
Jesse stopped pacing and stared at his brother, dark brown eyes blazing with barely contained fury and pain.
“Crisis management?” he repeated, voice cracking with disbelief.
“You married someone else, a girl who works in our own office, just to save face? She’s not a pawn, Alexander.
She’s a person. You can’t just… swap brides like it’s a business deal gone bad. ”
Alexander frowned, surprised by the intensity of Jesse’s reaction. He had no idea about the secret three-year relationship, no clue that the woman now legally his wife was the same one who had been tearing his brother apart for days.
To him, Jesse was simply caught off guard by the scandal, protective of the company’s image or perhaps of Emery as an employee.
“I know it looks insane,” Alexander said quietly, trying to reason.
“I didn’t want this either. I refused at first. But Harold was crying.
The scandal would have destroyed us both.
Emery agreed reluctantly. It was only to get through today.
We’ll figure out the rest later. It doesn’t have to be real. ”
Jesse’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He wanted to scream the truth that Emery was his, that he had held her, loved her, pushed her away in anger, and now she was married to his own brother because of one stupid fight.
But the words stuck in his throat. All he could manage was a bitter, broken laugh.
“Doesn’t have to be real?” he muttered, turning away so Alexander wouldn’t see the raw agony in his eyes. “You just said ‘I do’ to her, Alexander. She’s your wife now. Whether you like it or not.”
Inside the car, Emery’s sobs had quieted to soft, shuddering breaths. She had heard every word of their conversation through the window... Jesse’s furious disbelief, Alexander’s calm explanations. Her heart twisted painfully at the sound of his voice, so close yet impossibly far.
She wiped her tears with trembling fingers, the reality of her new life settling over her like a heavy, suffocating blanket.
Jesse leaned against the hood of the car, head bowed, fighting the overwhelming urge to rip the door open and pull her into his arms.
For now, he could only stand there, heart shattering with every passing second, while the woman he loved sat crying in the back seat, legally bound to his brother.
×××××××