I could barely remember the drive back to the Watson estate. I'd called my driver to take me home after I left the reception. My mind was blank, and my body was just operating on instinct.
The grand house was eerily silent. The staff needed not to be told that something had gone terribly wrong. They avoided my gaze as I made my way upstairs.
No one questioned why I returned by myself. No one asked why my wedding dress was wrinkled and dirty, dragging on the marble floor like a reminder of the life I used to have.
The moment I stepped inside my room, the weight of everything came crashing down on me.
I closed the door tightly and nervously pulled the veil off my head. I looked in the mirror, and it felt like a cruel joke. My mascara was smudged, my lips were shaking, and my eyes looked empty.
I dropped onto the bed and curled up into a ball, gripping the silk sheets as if they could keep me from falling apart.
But nothing could.
