Chapter 10
Anna
The mirror in the beachside bridal suite caught the sweep of white as the gown settled around me, layers of soft fabric whispering against the floor with every step.
The gentle sea breeze drifting through the open window made the tulle shimmer, catching the light like liquid pearls.
For a heartbeat, I barely recognized the woman staring back at me, yet transformed.
This dress was so flattering and elegant, but also had this dreamy, magical vibe.
My hands glided over the smooth fabric, feeling how light it was, and I couldn't help but sigh softly.
Nancy stood behind me, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, her eyes shimmering with tears that mirrored my own.
I turned to her and pulled her into a hug. “It’s beautiful,” I said softly. “You’re incredible. So talented.”
She stepped back and signed carefully, her movements graceful and familiar. You’re a beautiful bride.
Emotion tightened my throat. “You’re going to find your happily ever after too,” I said firmly. “I promise.”
She smiled faintly and signed again. I’m not worried about that.
I knew she said it lightly, but my heart ached anyway.
Dating had never been easy for Nancy. She was stunning, head-turning, effortlessly so, but the moment people noticed her speech disability, they pulled away.
She could hear perfectly well, but because they didn’t want to take the time to understand her.
They didn’t need to sign back. They just needed patience.
She wasn’t born this way. It happened after the trauma of losing our mom, back when we were still in high school.
She was thirteen, and I was seventeen. Grief had reshaped her voice, but it didn’t break her spirit.
She pushed through university, through life, through every quiet dismissal the world handed her, and still showed up kind, resilient, whole.
I hoped that one day someone would see all of that and choose her without hesitation.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called.
Dad stepped inside, his eyes softening the moment he saw me. “You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Thanks, Dad,” I replied, stepping forward to hug him tightly.
Just then, the door opened again and my bridesmaids came in, their orange dresses bright against the white walls.
“Wow,” Chloe breathed. “You look stunning.”
I smiled, my heart full.
The day was finally here.
Nancy checked her watch and signed the time, then handed me my bouquet. I was nervous.
The bridesmaids moved ahead of us, their coral dresses catching the light as they walked. Nancy went first, and I couldn’t help smiling at her pride and joy.
The music shifted, and it was my turn. I took a deep breath, stepping toward Michael, who was fidgeting slightly but smiling nervously.
My eyes met his, and for a moment the world narrowed to just the two of us.
He looked so handsome with tenderness in his gaze.
I noticed the quick swipe of a hand at his eye—just before the officiant began.
My own vision blurred as tears gathered, but before they could fall, a sudden tickle in my nose betrayed me.
I sneezed. Then again. And again.
A small ripple of quiet laughter moved through the front row.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured once the last sneeze passed, pressing my fingers lightly beneath my nose as I tried to recover with what dignity I had left.
Michael chuckled softly, the tension easing between us.
We exchanged our vows, the words that were both traditional and personal, promising loyalty, patience, and a future built together. Each promise felt weighty as it left my lips, settling somewhere deep in my chest.
The rings followed, cool metal sliding into place, symbols that suddenly felt far more real than they had during rehearsals.
Then the officiant’s voice rose clearly over the quiet audience.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss, sweet, warm, and filled with promise. “You look beautiful,” Michael murmured against my lips, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. We pulled back just slightly, smiling, before he leaned close and whispered, “Congratulations, Mrs. Miller.”
Confetti rained down as the crowd cheered, and I tossed the bouquet—Nancy caught it with a laugh, her joy mirroring mine.
Cocktail hour passed in a blur of laughter, photos, and congratulations. Soon, the reception began, and our guests were seated. Speeches were made, toasts were raised, and finally, it was time for our first dance.
Michael took my hand, leading me to the centre of the floor. He held me close, his gaze never leaving mine. I rested my head lightly against his shoulder, letting the music carry us.
“I just want to be home with you,” he whispered, his voice soft but earnest. “Forget the world, just us… for a while.”
A smile curved my lips. “I love you,” I said simply.
“Love you too, babe,” he replied, squeezing my hand gently as we swayed.
When the song ended, I lifted my head. “Can I quickly go to the kids’ area?”
“Of course,” he said easily. “Let’s go.”
I slipped from Michael’s side and stepped toward the kids’ area, his hand lingering on mine until the last possible second. The space was a miniature wonderland—slides, a tiny trampoline, tables and chairs strung with fairy lights, and balloons bobbing lazily overhead.
The children spotted me immediately. A small whirlwind of white dresses and tuxedos barrelled toward me, little arms wrapping around my legs. I laughed, bending down to hug them back. Amy’s pink dress stood out like a spark in the crowd, her chin lifted like a tiny queen surveying her domain.
Her mother hovered nearby, elegant and blonde, observing with a careful smile. I caught her gaze for a second—measured, appraising.
Isabel, in her pink dress edged closer to Amy, who instantly scowled. “Why are you wearing pink? You’re not supposed to look like me!”
Before Isabel could answer, Amy’s mother crouched slightly, smoothing her daughter’s hair. “Don’t worry, angel. You’re still more beautiful than her.”
Heat flared in my chest at the words.
“I think they both look beautiful,” Lara said firmly.
Amy’s mother straightened, eyes shifting to Lara. “And who are you?”
Lara’s mother, Elise appeared then, hurrying forward. The moment their eyes met, both women froze. Recognition, surprise, something unspoken, passed between them.
“Cathy?”
“Elise?”
A tight smile touched Elise’s lips as her gaze flicked briefly toward the girls before settling back on Cathy. “Long time,” she said, her hand brushing Lara’s shoulder protectively.
I could feel the weight of history between them, thick enough to be almost tangible, but I chose not to interrupt.
I felt Michael step closer behind me, his presence a quiet anchor. He draped an arm lightly around my waist, murmuring against my ear, “You’re glowing.”
I leaned into him, letting his warmth steady me.
My attention shifted back to the two women.
Cathy’s gaze flicked between Elise and the girls. “Is this your one?”
“Yes,” Elise said, nodding toward Lara. “This is Lara.”
Elise’s husband Larry appeared beside her, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before guiding her with a hand on her back, while Elise kept hold of Lara’s hand.
“Let’s get dessert, sweetheart,” he said, his tone calm, grounding.
But before they turned, Elise lingered a moment longer, then turned her attention to me. “Miss. Mathews.”
“Oh—please, call me Anna,” I said, offering a small smile.
“You look beautiful,” Elise said, and I felt Michael tighten his hand around mine.
“All thanks to you and Lara,” I said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “This design… it’s perfect.”
Elise’s eyes lit up. “Who made it?”
"My sister," I said, looking over at the reception area.
“She’s talented. I’d love to meet her,” Elise said, and I promised I would introduce them.
After the reception, a white limousine waited at the curb, a Just Married sign taped proudly across the rear window. Guests spilled outside behind us, laughing, cheering, calling our names as rice and petals scattered across the pavement.
Still smiling, still slightly dazed by the day, we slipped inside.
The door closed, muting the noise, leaving us in a quiet bubble of soft leather and dim lights. As the car pulled away, we waved back through the tinted window until the crowd blurred into a sea of waving hands and fading voices.
Only then did Michael turn to me.
“I can’t believe we’re married,” he mumbled, almost like he was afraid the words might vanish if spoken too loudly.
I smiled, my heart full. “I’ve always been yours.”
He leaned in, and we kissed, laughter slipping between us as our hands moved. Unable to stop touching—but aware of the occasional glance from the driver in the mirror. Every time we noticed, we pulled back just enough to laugh, only to drift right back together again.
The day was finally catching up with us. At some point, we broke apart, foreheads resting together, breathing each other in.
Then Michael stiffened.
His gaze lifted suddenly, eyes locking on something behind me, through the window. The change was instant—joy replaced by sharp alarm.
“Anna…” he started.
His body shifted, instinctive, protective, his arm coming up as he leaned toward me.
And then…
A violent crash exploded through the night.
Metal screamed. Glass shattered. The world lurched sideways.
And everything went dark.