Chapter 3

Lost in those memories, I barely noticed Anderson kneeling in front of me, putting the beat-up sneakers on my feet.

The bridesmaids hadn't caught on to any of the tension. They started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss!"

Anderson gave in to the crowd and leaned in toward me.

That's when Mia stumbled and fell straight into his arms.

He caught her.

Their lips met.

The room went dead silent.

Laura snapped. "Mia, you did that on purpose!"

"I'm sorry, I just lost my balance..."

"You lost your balance and somehow fell directly into the groom?"

"Enough." Anderson helped Mia steady herself, his expression tight. "Mia twisted her ankle today. Of course she lost her balance."

He turned to Laura, his tone cooling. "It was an accident. Is it really worth getting this upset over?"

"It is absolutely —"

Laura was about to lose it. I put my hand on her arm.

Over the past two years, Anderson had written off a lot of things as "accidents" or "not worth fighting over."

Last year, Mia plagiarized a proposal I'd spent three months on. He said it wasn't a big deal.

Six months ago, Mia crashed our anniversary dinner. He said it wasn't a big deal.

Last month, Mia accidentally killed my cat — the one I'd had for six years. He said it wasn't a big deal.

Every single time, he told me not to make a thing of it.

This time, I wasn't going to bother either.

While we were still standing there in that awkward silence, Anderson's mother walked in carrying a cake.

"Lisa, I've waited so long for this day." She cut a slice and held it up to my mouth. "Here, have some cake. May your marriage be nothing but sweetness."

I stared at the slice in her hand.

My parents died when I was young. For over a decade, Anderson's family had taken me in and treated me like their own.

And now, these two people who were the closest thing I had to family were working together to push me into something terrible.

I knew exactly what eating that cake would mean.

I opened my mouth and swallowed it anyway.

Then Anderson lifted me in his arms and carried me downstairs, one step at a time.

He used to carry me like this when we were kids.

I was twelve when my parents died in a car accident. The shock was too much. I hid away for three days without eating or drinking anything.

Anderson was the one who found me. He carried me home on his back, barely alive.

He held my bony hand and told me: "Lisa, my home is your home now. My parents are your parents."

"Don't be scared. I'm here. I'll always protect you."

His shoulders felt exactly the same as they did back then — warm and steady.

They just didn't belong to me anymore.

We reached the bottom of the stairs and Anderson set me down.

"Lisa." He adjusted my veil, smiling gently. "This is as far as I carry you. The rest of the way, you walk on your own."

Laura was furious. "By tradition, the groom is supposed to carry the bride to the car!"

"Says who?"

"Anderson, what is wrong with you today?" Laura was shaking. "Something has been off with you since the moment you walked in."

"Laura." I took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. I can walk."

Anderson was never my groom.

What right did he have to carry me anywhere?

The wedding car was parked about a hundred feet away.

Once I walked that road, everything between us would be finished.