The Twisted Wedding Night

　　Lily's POV

　　The orchestra had stopped playing a while ago, and now, the only thing that accompanied me where I stood was the gaping silence.

　　Too loud. Too deafening.

　　Why were things different for me today?

　　"Where is he?" They whispered, their eyes moving around the room. But it wasn't from concern. I heard the amusement etched in their tones, the haughtiness in their eyes. The thrill of being right.

　　I moved my weight from one foot to the other, standing at the other end of the aisle, all alone. I had been here for an hour now. My cousin, Sophie, was supposed to walk me down the aisle as the only living member of my family, but she was nowhere to be found.

　　Yet, that wasn't what bothered me.

　　It was Zane's absence.

　　My gaze met the door for the thousandth time. It stood empty, the garlands wrapped around it, mocking me and the situation I found myself in. A knot worked its way to my throat, and I tried to push it down.

　　The crowd had moved on around me, their whispers audible, like I wasn't in the same room as them.

　　"Men usually do not develop cold feet during their weddings," one muttered, stacking unsolicited comments, one above the other. "So maybe he is just not interested in getting married to an emotional wreck like her."

　　"Did you guys hear she lost both her parents in a car crash on the same day?" I could see their ears perk up at that. The way their eyes found me, still waiting in front of the room, a thin line of sweat dripping down my tight corset.

　　"Call that a sympathy generator, but for me, I just see it as plain bad luck. What if Zane gets married to her and the same thing happens to him? What then? This is him trying to save himself, and if you ask me, I think he is making the right decision."

　　There was nothing around me to hurl across the room, colliding with the head of the woman who had just finished spewing nonsense, and even if there was, I wouldn't have been able to do a thing.

　　I reached for the lace of my corset and tried to loosen it. I chose this dress for Zane, and he wasn't even here to see it. He loved me in the modern styles, so I changed my wardrobe, purchasing a lot of corsets, reversible tops, and halter necks.

　　He said it made his friends see him the right way. I did it because I wanted to see Zane happy.

　　So, where the hell was he?

　　"Hi," I whispered to the planner, bent over a bouquet of roses that didn't need any further fiddling with. "Can I please get my phone?"

　　She had refused to hand it over for the past hour because, in her opinion, it would get me agitated. She'd said I had nothing to worry about, that she was sure Zane was on his way, along with my cousin, Sophie.

　　But now, her optimism had vanished along with the hopes of the guests that my wedding was holding.

　　One of her attendants scurried over to me a while later with my phone. There was no missed call from Zane or Sophie. My chest hurt, but I tried to give nothing away, flashing a smile at the guests before stepping further to the side to call Zane.

　　His phone didn't ring. Instead, it went straight to voicemail. He turned it off. Maybe he got into an accident.

　　Panic began to work its way through me as I picked the ball of my dress and returned to the planner. "We need to search in on all the hospitals around," I said in one breath, my pulse racing. "Zane's phone has been turned off. What if he had an accident and is in a critical state in the hospital while I am here, bothering about some silly wedding?"

　　I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes. "Zane…he needs me."

　　"What if he isn't in the hospital, too?" The planner responded in a calm tone. "Let's give him another hour. You should try calling Sophie, too. If they both don't get here, we can go make a report at the police station. But for now, keep calling."

　　She regarded me as if she knew something I didn't. Still, I couldn't shake off that feeling that something bad had happened to the man I was in love with.

　　The tears threatened to roll down my face, and I tried to sniff them in. I heard feet shuffling in front of me and looked up to see some of the guests leaving.

　　If Zane didn't appear, I would be the talk of the town before the end of the day.

　　But I knew they were wrong. Zane would never stand me up like this. He loved me as much as I loved me. He told me that himself. We even had matching necklaces to prove our undying devotion to each other.

　　Something must have happened to him.

　　It felt like I'd been waiting forever when the doors to the chapel opened suddenly and Zane, my fiancé, sauntered in. His eyes weren't frantic, nor his feet hasty. But when he stopped in front of me, my hands reached out to touch him, and my eyes scanned his body frantically.

　　"Zane," I cried, touching his hair, his face, his chest, his arms. His suit was all rumpled, and his tie was askew, like he'd gone to bed with it. "Oh my God, Zane!"

　　Relief washed through me. "I thought something bad had happened to you. Did your car develop a fault? Did you have to go to the hospital? I should have been there for you. I'm so sorry, but I couldn't reach you, and they wouldn't let me leave the venue.

　　Zane's eyes were cold and expressionless when he wrapped both my hands in his and took them off his body, allowing them to drop limply by my side.

　　Something breaks inside me.

　　"Let's just get this over with."

　　And right on cue, my cousin walked in, her hair tousled, lipstick smudged, and a bold, angry bruise at the base of her throat.

　　My breath stopped.