When Dominique emerged from the tree line with Hazel on his back, the scene at the resort entrance stopped everyone cold.
His three-piece suit was rumpled now, his jacket unbuttoned, tie long gone, shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. His perfect hair was a mess, dark strands falling across his forehead. He looked nothing like the perfect model who had walked into the wedding hours ago.
Hazel clung to his back, her arms wrapped around his neck, her wedding dress pooling around them both. Her heels dangled from one of her hands, useless and forgotten. Her scarred cheek rested near his shoulder, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion.
