Chapter 16 #2
With a little assistance, he secured the kippah to his hair.
As he walked down the hallway, he received some handshakes and messages of “good luck.” Annalisa opened the second door and, with a deep breath, he stepped onto the stage.
The chapel looked exactly the same as it had yesterday, except for the fact that every row was packed from aisle to aisle with people.
He recognized some of them. His parents, of course, and a smattering of friends and family from back home.
And Naomi’s parents. But many of the faces were unfamiliar to him.
There were Naomi’s friends and relatives he hadn’t met yet, yes, but also guests brought in by the studio—sponsors, WNO execs and board members, even sweepstakes winners that had scored an all-expenses-paid trip to Chicago to attend the wedding and get a picture with him and Naomi at the reception
As he walked to the spot marked with a small X in gaffer’s tape beneath the lush floral chuppah, he thought about how it was more than a little odd to have people he didn’t know sharing in this intimate moment of love between him and Naomi.
Then he remembered the thirty million people he didn’t know who were also watching his wedding. He folded his hands in front of himself, squeezing them to try and distract himself from that thought.
Freya took her place beside him, seemingly unfazed by the audience, both visible and invisible. Finally, Riley joined them. Out of the corner of his eye, Will could see Riley repeatedly patting their hair like it was a sad puppy.
As the last few guests found their seats, a voice boomed from somewhere in the back. “Stand by, everyone. Chapel going live in five … four …”
Will inhaled a chest full of air and held it until the countdown reached one.
As he exhaled, all the red lights on the cameras tucked into every corner of the room turned on.
On a screen at the back of the room, the live feed of the Wilomi Wedding Special co-hosts faded away and was replaced with the image of the chapel. Of him, standing at the altar.
Even with the buzz of nerves, he felt surprisingly calm. The hardest part was over. He was here and he was ready. Naomi was waiting for him right outside those double doors at the end of the hallway.
The rest was only two little words.
He smiled at the guests, and their smiles bloomed like wildflowers across the pews.
Will turned his head towards Freya and Riley and said softly, “The last time I had this many people looking at me with such adoration, I played a donkey in my church’s Christmas pageant.”
“See, now I would have pegged you as more of a sheep,” Freya said.
There was a rustle near the front of the chapel, and then Will heard his name. “Mr. Quinn!”
Will turned to see a man he didn’t recognize in a navy suit standing in the aisle, waving his arms. “Mr. Quinn!” Will let out a chuckle as he tried to guess what the studio or perhaps his bride had up their sleeve.
Was this man about to serenade Will with a song Naomi had written?
Was this the beginning of a flash mob that would carry Naomi down the aisle? “Patrick from NBS.”
The chuckle stopped abruptly.
Will glanced at Freya and then back to the door where Annalisa was standing, looking as confused as he was.
“NBS? Like the television station?” Riley said in a whisper loud enough to be heard over the hum from the guests probably asking the same thing.
“Yeah.” Freya sounded annoyed but not concerned. “It appears he managed to sneak onto the guest list.”
“Trying to get a little fifteen minutes of fame for his station?” Riley said. “I respect the hustle.”
“This should be over in a second. Here comes security now.”
Sure enough, two hefty security guards began a measured but quick march towards Patrick from their place at the back of the chapel.
Patrick noticed them too and started making his way towards the front as he shouted.
“What is your reaction to the allegations that Naomi is having an affair with her ex-husband?”
The murmurs stopped. His heart stopped. He had heard the words, but they didn’t make sense. Naomi didn’t have an ex-husband. Naomi would never cheat on him. Except …
“What?” Will heard himself say. He didn’t want to know more, but some part of him pressed on.
Patrick was nearly at the altar, with the security guards only steps behind.
“The story broke seconds ago on NBS. Naomi was photographed in the arms of her ex-husband last night.” He brandished a small tablet, raising it into the air, like he was Arthur pulling the sword from the stone, right before the two guards grabbed hold of him.
There it was again. Ex-husband. Why did he keep saying that? Will held up a hand. “Wait.” The security guards paused but didn’t release Patrick as Will continued. “Wait. What do you mean, Naomi’s … ex-husband?”
“Take a look for yourself.” When the security guards wouldn’t let him go, Patrick threw the tablet like a Frisbee. It landed on target, at Will’s feet. He stared at it, his heart and mind holding his body captive. But he knew he had to find out.
He bent down, his body fighting him like a rusty machine, and picked it up.
The screen displayed a photo with a carousel of similar photos lined up beneath.
In the picture, the sky was charcoal black, and the starbursts of light from the streetlamps nearly overpowered the image.
But he could still make out Naomi’s apartment in the background.
More importantly, he could make out Naomi.
He could see her unmistakable thick black curls and her DePaul sweatshirt.
But not her face. Because it was pressed into a kiss with another man.
His stomach churned like an erupting volcano as he swiped from photo to photo, each one a more passionate kiss than the previous.
Suddenly, the tablet was ripped from his hand. “It’s not me!” Naomi was in front of him, swiping through the photos with desperation. “I wasn’t with Simon last night, I swear, Will!”
Will could barely find the breath to make himself speak. How could this be happening? “Simon? You know this man?”
She looked down at the ground, and he stared at her, begging her, willing her to say no. To say this was a mistake. Or a joke. But when she looked up, tears poured down her face in rivulets like rain on a window, and he knew it was none of those things. “He’s … he’s my ex-husband.”
A jolt of pain ripped through him, fury and heartbreak too intermingled to distinguish. “You were married before?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Naomi was sobbing. “I’m so sorry. But I swear, I swear that’s not me in the picture. I would never …”
But she would. She had. She had lied. The rest didn’t matter. Every second of their relationship was unraveling in front of him. Every kiss, every promise, every dream. It had all started with a lie.
Abby appeared beside Naomi and took the tablet. “This isn’t Naomi.” She said it as if she wanted to be certain but wasn’t. It was obvious she wasn’t because she was swiping and zooming and clearly looking for definitive proof that she couldn’t find because it wasn’t there.
Because Naomi had lied.
“Where did you get this?” Abby spat the words at Patrick.
“Those photos were sent to us last night from an anonymous source,” Patrick said in a strong and professional journalistic voice as if this were some press conference and not Will’s entire life being destroyed in a single moment.
“There’s more, too, if you keep going. We analyzed the photos and were able to confirm they aren’t photoshopped, and the newspaper on the bench confirms the date. ”
Riley came into his field of vision. “It can’t be her,” they said, taking the tablet from Abby. “There’s no way. Besides, you were with her, right? That was the plan, you were going to spend the evening practicing the bustle?”
Will looked at Abby, a flicker of hope that was quickly destroyed. “It was. We did … except … the alarm at my office went off again. I was there, talking to the police for over an hour.”
Will had watched Naomi’s live last night.
Not a lot. He had done his best to avoid seeing too much more of her wedding dress.
But enough to have seen her at her apartment with Abby and hear her excitement when she talked about getting married.
He knew the way her eyes crinkled and her voice got almost sing-song when she was genuinely happy.
That was the Naomi he had seen last night.
Or had he? Did he know anything about her?
“Where … where were you last night while Abby was gone, Naomi?” His throat constricted as he tried to fight back tears.
“In my apartment. I swear. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me!”
Will knew he should be feeling something for her as he watched Naomi plead with him through her sobs.
But when she reached for him, all he felt was bitter, icy pain and he recoiled from her as tears blurred his vision.
“How? How can I believe you? You’ve been lying to me this whole time.
How can I believe anything you’ve ever said to me? ”
“No! Please! It wasn’t me!”
She took another step towards him, and he backed away further away. The woman in front of him wasn’t only a stranger. She was an assassin who had completed her mission. “I can’t … I can’t do this.”
“No!” He barely registered her cry as he ran down the aisle. “Please, Will! Please!”
He barreled towards the doors, shoving them open like he was Samson pushing the pillars of the temple down.
The corridors beyond twisted in every direction, a maze that seemed designed to trap him.
Every hallway looked the same, every turn led to another indistinguishable stretch of tile floors.
The polished surface of the floor reflected the overhead lights, making everything feel even more endless as he searched for an exit.
Stairs, elevator, a rope ladder out a window—he didn’t care how he got out. He just needed out. Away from the lies. From the loss. From her.
He took a sharp right, then a left, nearly colliding with a catering cart as he searched for any familiar landmark.
Another right, then a hallway that looked promising—until it led to nothing but a supply closet.
He spun back around, heart hammering, retracing his steps only to realize he wasn’t sure which way he had come from.
Another turn. Another identical corridor.
He looked down the hallway on his left and caught a glimpse of two figures at the far end of the hallway, standing close, locked in something charged.
A fight?
Or a kiss …
The flash of red and blonde hair registered.
Abby and Freya?
His curiosity was decimated by the realization that if it was them and they saw him, they’d try to stop him. Ask him questions. And he couldn’t handle that.
So he turned the opposite direction before whoever they were stopped whatever they were doing and recognized him.
“Will, please, I’m begging you.”
At the sound of Naomi’s voice, he picked up his pace.
“Stop, please! Don’t leave.”
He spotted the silver frame of the elevator down another hallway and careened to the right. He pressed the elevator call button again and again.
“You don’t understand. Let me explain.”
As the elevator doors opened, he turned to look at her.
“You think I don’t understand? I understand perfectly.
I understand that you’re not who you thought I were.
I understand that you played me like a fool.
” He stepped onto the elevator and hit the ground floor button. “I understand that we’re done, Naomi.”
The elevator doors, and his heart, closed.