Chapter 4 #2
The corridor tilts. I reach out and grab Jane's arm to steady myself.
"What do you mean he's not here?.. Is he ok?"
"I don't know," Christina says helplessly. "I don't know where he is."
Inside the ballroom, whispers are starting. Guests turning to each other, confused murmurs rising.
My chest tightens. I can't breathe.
"Well, call him," I say, my voice coming out too loud.
"Call him right now. And keep calling him."
I can feel the chunks rising in my throat, threatening to choke me. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely hold my bouquet. Jane and Sarah are staring at me with horror on their faces, their bridesmaid dresses suddenly looking absurd in the face of this disaster.
"My phone," I gasp. "Jane, where's my phone?"
"I have it." Jane fumbles in the small bag she's carrying and pulls out my phone with trembling fingers.
"Call him," I say. "Call Miles right now."
Jane's fingers shake as she dials. She presses the phone to her ear. We all wait, frozen.
No answer.
"Try again," I demand.
Jane tries again. Nothing.
"Sarah." My voice cracks. "You try."
Sarah pulls out her own phone and dials Miles. We wait. The phone rings and rings and goes to voicemail. Inside the ballroom, I can see the groomsmen making frantic calls. Eric has his phone pressed to his ear, his face grave.
I look toward the front row and see Dax sitting next to Barbara. They're both turned in their seats, looking back toward the corridor where I'm standing. Even from here, I can see the concern on Barbara's face, the tension in Dax's jaw.
Then both of them stand. Barbara's hand comes to her mouth. Dax's expression darkens. They start walking toward the back of the ballroom, toward where I'm standing in the corridor.
"Scarlett." My father's voice is gentle.
"Sweetheart, maybe we should—"
"No." I cut him off. "No, he's coming. He's just late. He's—"
Barbara reaches me first, her heels clicking on the marble floor.
"Scarlett, dear, what's happening? Where's Miles?"
"I don't know." My voice breaks. "He's not here. He's not answering his phone."
Dax is right behind his mother, his face a mask of controlled fury.
"What do you mean he's not here?"
"He never showed up," Christina says, wringing her hands.
"We don't know where he is."
Dax pulls out his phone immediately and dials. I watch his face as he waits, jaw clenched, eyes hard. The call goes to voicemail.
"Miles, it's Dax," he says into the phone, his voice clipped.
"Where the hell are you? Call me back. Now."
He ends the call and tries again. Nothing. Barbara tries next, her hands shaking as she holds her phone.
"Miles, honey, please pick up. Please."
Voicemail.
The music is still playing. The guests are all turned around now, watching the chaos unfold. Whispers are spreading through the ballroom like wildfire.
My father has his hand on my shoulder. Jane and Sarah are on either side of me. Barbara is crying quietly. Dax is pacing, fury radiating off him in waves.
Eric appears from inside the ballroom, walking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. His face is somber, his eyes red. My heart stops.
"Scarlett," he says quietly, coming to stand directly in front of me.
"I'm so sorry."
"What? Did something happened to Miles? You were together last night, I—"
The words comes out as a whisper.
"Miles just called me." Eric's voice cracks.
"He said—"
"What did he say?" I interrupt, my voice rising.
"Tell me what he said, Eric."
Eric's eyes are full of pity.
"He said he can't go through with it. He's not coming."
The words hit me like a physical blow. My knees buckle, and my father catches me before I fall.
"No." I shake my head.
"No, that's not— He's just nervous. He's just—"
"I'm sorry," Eric says again.
"He's not coming, Scarlett."
I can't breathe. The corset of my wedding dress is too tight, crushing my ribs, squeezing the air from my lungs. The corridor spins.
I look into the ballroom at fifty guests sitting in their chairs, all of them turned to stare at me.
I see my mother starting to walk toward me, her face horrified.
I see Barbara with her hand over her mouth, tears streaming down her face.
I see Dax standing frozen, rage etched into every line of his body.
They're all looking at me. Waiting for me to fall apart. The chunks rise in my throat. I'm going to be sick. Right here, in my wedding dress, in front of everyone. My ears go deaf, drowned out by the thundering of my heart. Everything narrows to a single point—I need to get out of here. Now.
I turn on my heels and run. The dress is heavy, cumbersome, but adrenaline propels me forward. I run down the corridor, my veil streaming behind me, my bouquet forgotten on the floor.
"Scarlett!" Jane's voice behind me.
"Scarlett, wait!"
I don't wait. I can't. I need to get away from the staring, the pity, the humiliation crashing down on me like a tidal wave.
I spot a bathroom and throw myself through the door. My hands are shaking so violently I can barely lock it, but I manage. The lock clicks into place just as Jane and Sarah reach the door.
"Scarlett, please let us in!" Sarah's voice is muffled through the wood.
I don't answer. I stumble to the toilet and collapse to my knees. The beautiful wedding dress crumples beneath me, lace and crystals grinding against the tile floor.
And then I vomit. Everything I ate this morning comes up in violent waves.
I heave and gasp, my body shaking, mascara-stained tears streaming down my face.
When there's nothing left, I slump against the wall.
The bathroom is cold, sterile, nothing like the romantic wedding suite I left thirty minutes ago.
My makeup is ruined. Black streaks down my cheeks. Red eyes. The perfect bride is gone, replaced by this broken thing on the bathroom floor.
"Scarlett, please." Jane's voice cracks.
"Please let us in."
I can't respond. I pull my knees to my chest and sit here in my destroyed wedding dress and sob.