Chapter 7

The church her parents got married in was small, and held both good and bad memories for Becks.

She remembered being so proud to walk down the aisle as a flower girl at her parents’ wedding.

Her dad had made faces at her from his position at the altar because she’d been so stoic in trying to keep pace with the music that she’d forgotten to smile.

There were church picnics and barbeques growing up, her brother’s confirmation and then her own, youth group shut-ins and movie marathons.

Her Girl Scout troop even helped a historical restoration company fix the broken and weathered tombstones in the church’s cemetery.

Then there was the pain of watching her father’s casket be lowered into the ground in that same cemetery after he was shot on the job. Becks had lost her desire to attend services after that, though at the time she blamed it on being too busy to go with her new college schedule.

When Ritchie had proposed last summer, he’d wanted to get married in the city.

They’d viewed a lot of expensive and extravagant venues that could hold hundreds of guests, but none of them felt right to Becks.

It hadn’t been until she returned home and her mom asked her if she wanted to go to church with her one Sunday that Becks had realized why none of those places had felt right: her dad wasn’t at any of them.

Ritchie might think it silly, but he caved because she’d asked, and she loved him for that.

It was his wedding too, and he was the one paying for it.

As an only child with estranged, divorced parents, Ritchie wanted a big wedding filled with her family and their friends.

The church, though, could only hold a hundred or so people.

It was an extremely old building with a small, local congregation.

As soon as Becks entered the church, a sense of calm washed over her.

She didn’t know if it was seeing her pastor or Beth, the organist who had been playing for the congregation since before Becks had been born.

Maybe it was the décor and the arrangements of flowers and ribbons Valerie, her wedding planner, set up the night before.

Becks’ entourage included Liam, who was the only one tall enough to carry Becks’ garment bag without it dragging on the ground, Libby, September, Dani, and Gillian.

Her mom and her aunt would be arriving later, as they had hair and nail appointments that morning.

The makeup artist Becks had hired should be arriving any minute to help get Becks ready.

It was nearly seven, which meant they had a little over three hours.

Guests were asked to arrive by nine-thirty and the wedding would start at ten.

Valerie approached from down the aisle with her ever-present binder. “Good morning, my beautiful bride. Pastor Anthony is clearing out his office now for you to use as your bridal suite. I have already been in contact with the caterers, and they are on the way. Do you have all your bouquets?”

Libby pointed over her shoulder. “They’re in the car. Liam said he’d go back for them once we got Becks settled.”

“Fantastic. I am sending my assistant over to the hotel in just a minute to help get the groomsmen moving. I hope they didn’t party too hard last night,” Valerie added. “But if they did, we’ve got everything they’ll need for quick hangover remedies.”

Becks nodded, almost absentmindedly. She’d sent Ritchie a text that morning, to which he’d replied back with a Scrooge McDuck counting gold coins gif followed by a raining money meme.

She didn’t know what either meant, but he seemed in good spirits so she’d replied with a laughing emoji and then reminded him that he needed to be at the church by eight-thirty to help greet the guests.

The ceremony itself would be short, since they weren’t conforming to a specific denomination, and the church’s reception hall was right around the corner from the chapel.

Following pictures, the wedding party would join their guests in time for a lunch of pan-seared salmon with beurre blanc sauce or mushroom-stuffed chicken with a garlic rosemary gravy.

Liam’s phone rang, echoing loudly in the empty chapel. He reached into his front pocket, frowning as he saw who was calling. Becks tried to keep a straight face as her heart raced. Was it Ghost? Then she scolded herself and walked away from that very thought.

Unfortunately, the acoustics in the chapel were completely messed up, which meant Becks could hear Liam, regardless of the fact that he was across the sanctuary from her.

“Keys? What’s up?” Becks knew from past talks with her brother about his motorcycle club that Keys was their tech wizard.

The club thought of him as a kid brother because he was so much younger than the rest of them.

“How the hell should I know?” Her brother’s voice sounded pissed, almost harsh.

Becks turned in time to see him lay her dress over the back of the last pew and then head towards the doors.

“Are you fucking with me? He paid a hooker how much?”

Things moved fast as soon as Pastor Anthony relinquished his office to Becks and her bridesmaids.

Unfortunately, the more they did and the closer it got to eight and then eight-thirty, the less calm Becks felt.

She didn’t see Valerie much, though the wedding planner had come in to borrow Libby about twenty minutes ago.

Liam, dressed in his tux, kept coming in to check on her and then her mom took over after she arrived.

Was Becks supposed to feel so disjointed about her own wedding? Like she was just going through the motions?

At a quarter to nine, Becks got word that the groomsmen had arrived. She didn’t even have it in her to be angry that Ritchie was late. That wasn’t a good sign, was it?

Becks was standing in front of the mirror at a quarter after nine.

She was all done. Hair perfect, face perfect, nails perfect, shoes perfect, dress…

Well, the dress was perfect. The cape she was wearing over her shoulders was ridiculous, but Ritchie had asked for so little with the wedding.

The least she could do was accommodate his conservative bosses.

Was it too late to dye the cape rainbow just to fuck with them?

The knock on her door sounded odd. Her bridesmaids were out helping to usher people to their seats and to coordinate with Valerie.

Due to Ritchie’s schedule, they’d done the rehearsal two weeks ago with several of the wedding party on video calls.

Becks had been so excited at the rehearsal, smiling widely enough that her cheeks had hurt for hours afterwards.

Why wasn’t she smiling now?

Why wasn’t she excited now?

“Come,” she called over her shoulder. Why did she feel disappointed when her mom, Libby, and Valerie came into the room?

Like she’d been expecting—or hoping—for someone else to have been there.

She took in their grim expressions and picked up her skirts to turn and face them. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

The three of them glanced between themselves. Her mom now wore a sleek navy blue dress in remembrance of her dad’s favorite color, while Valerie had on a tan business suit jacket, red blouse, and black flowy dress.

Libby stepped forward in her long, teal bridesmaid dress, with a guilty expression that seemed to indicate she had drawn the short straw. “We,” she gestured between them, “decided to keep something from you this morning. We were hoping to fix it on our own, but it’s beyond that point.”

Becks frowned. “Keep something from me?” How far in her head had she been that she hadn’t even been suspicious that something was wrong?

“What happened? Did the caterers not show up?” They were supposed to have coffee and pastries prepared for the guests as they arrived.

Becks had been offered a Danish earlier, and had just assumed it had come from the caterers.

“No, no, they’re here,” Valerie insisted, stepping forward.

Her mom followed suit. “It’s Ritchie, baby. No one can find him.”

Becks blinked. Then blinked again. And again. “I’m sorry. What?”

“I sent my assistant over to the hotel this morning,” Valerie explained. “He was there and getting ready. All of the groomsmen were extremely hungover, but she helped to get them ready. She ordered them room service and forced them into the shower one by one—”

Becks waved off Valerie’s tale of her assistant’s heroics that morning. “I don’t understand. Was Ritchie not there?”

“He was,” Valerie insisted. “He and Bryce”—the best man—“were the first to get ready. They went down to the restaurant for breakfast and…” Her voice trailed off.

“No one’s seen them since,” Libby finished for her. “We’ve all called them, numerous times. Hartley, Tyler, and Ethan are here,” she added, naming the other groomsmen, “but so far, no sign of Bryce or Ritchie.”

“Liam is on the phone with his tech friend from Pennsylvania,” their mom said hastily. “We’re hoping he can track down their phones.”

Becks stared at her mother, her best friend, and her wedding planner. Slowly, almost absently, Becks reached for her phone that was sitting on Pastor Anthony’s desk behind her. She dialed Ritchie’s number. It went straight to voicemail. She put the phone back down on the desk.

“Are you telling me that I’ve been…” She couldn’t even contemplate the words, they sounded so ridiculous. “I’ve been left at the altar?”

Ritchie wouldn’t do this to her. Would he? He’d been working so hard, all to get ready for their wedding. What had happened? He’d been texting her that morning.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.