Audrey's hotel room was a whirlwind of activity. Makeup artists, hairstylists, seamstresses and people she had no idea who they were, moved in and out, a constant, buzzing audience to her despair.
This was the third time the makeup artist was attempting her face, due to the tears that flowed without control. The woman, who knew both Audrey and Anya, was incredibly patient, clearly saddened by the news. Like everyone, she wondered why Audrey was marrying Kellan. The gossip was rampant; some whispered that Audrey had been the intended bride all along.
The wedding guest list was intentionally short—a few close family and essential business contacts. Yet, the parents spared no expense, using the décor, the food, and the extravagant gifts to flaunt their vast wealth.
Finally, Audrey was alone. She stood before a full-body mirror, dressed in a gown very similar to Anya's gown.
It was simple yet perfect: a flowing white silk dress with long, delicate lace sleeves and no unnecessary beading.
Anya believed that if it were hers, she would have added beads and made it much longer.
It wouldn't have sleeves, unlike Anya's.
Audrey knew Anya would have loved her dress. Anya had always preferred quiet elegance. Audrey felt a pang of guilt, recognizing how well the simple silhouette suited her own figure. She instantly rejected the thought. She didn't want to feel pretty, especially when she felt disgusted inside.
In the suite opposite, Kellan was ready, but deeply conflicted.
"Are you ready?" Rhys, Kellan's best man and best friend asked, his voice steady and supportive. He had known Rhys for as long as he knew how to read and write
Rhys' father worked with his father when he was alive. He died three years ago.
Kellan did everything he could to make Rhys feel better at that time. It broke him to see his friend that way.
Rhys was always a faithful friend, never crossing boundaries, and always nearby when Kellan struggled to make friends.
"Is that supposed to be a real question?" Kellan asked, staring out the ceiling-to-floor window.
"Everything is going to be alright, man," Rhys insisted, placing a sympathetic hand on Kellan's shoulder.
Kellan didn't respond. He picked up the black bow tie his valet had laid out and began to fix it. Immediately, a memory surfaced: Anya's playful words telling him he always looked cuter in a bow tie.
He sighed, dropping the silk. He picked up a regular, plain black tie instead.
"Why aren't you going with the bow tie?" Rhys asked, confused.
"Anya liked it when I wore bow ties," Kellan said, fixing the plain tie. "I'd rather not remember her, or her playful words, on the day I marry her sister."
Rhys only patted his arm
"If you need me to throw a bomb on the wedding venue I can do that for you."he said trying to crack a joke
"It's unfortunate my father might just do the same to your home." Kellan responded while fastening his tie.
Rhys chuckled and quietly left the room.
Kellan picked up the wedding ring box his mother had dropped off. Why spend so much on a temporary situation? he thought with a sigh, dropping it into his pocket. He then removed the ring he had bought for Anya—one he had personally designed. He placed the elaborate platinum ring, sparkling with a large diamond and a pavé band, on the dresser.
"I'm going to marry you, Anya Reed. It's just a matter of time," he muttered. He took several deep breaths, forced a blank mask onto his face, and finally stepped out.
Kellan and Audrey took separate cars to the venue. Kellan had insisted on it, and his parents hadn't dared to argue.
All the guests were seated. The bride's family sat on the left, the groom's on the right.
"Audrey, you look so beautiful," her mother whispered, carefully adjusting a loose strand of hair.
Her father stood waiting at the entrance. His eyes were moist. He held out his elbow for her. He placed a kiss on her forehead. "You're doing great, pumpkin," he whispered before the music started and they began the slow walk toward the altar.
Audrey scanned the faces in the small crowd, searching desperately for someone to run up and say this is all a dream. But everyone was seated quietly giving forced smiles here and there.
She looked up, her eyes locking with Kellan's at the altar. He was as expressionless as ever, but he looked magnificent—perfectly tailored in his suit. She had half-expected him to show up in a plain shirt and trousers, but it seemed he cared about painting a good image for his parents after all.
Kellan and Audrey had never been close. They often had small, prickly arguments because Audrey was fiercely protective of Anya, and she disliked how Kellan's devotion threatened to pull her sister away. She had only liked him because he made Anya intensely happy; she had witnessed the raw joy in her sister's eyes whenever they were together
Now, everything felt snatched away. She felt a wave of nausea, but her mother's strict, observing face warned her to hold it in.
Her father placed her hand in Kellan's. The priest began his standard greetings. Their vows were hollow, spoken mechanically. Audrey wondered if the few people present actually believed they were in love.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest said with a smile, causing a brief eruption of joy from the crowd.
Audrey noted they had skipped the "you may kiss the bride" part. She was more than grateful for that—it was the only smart decision her mother had made all day.
The ceremony carried on. People drank and dined, engrossed in soft conversation and laughter. Audrey couldn't bear the noise. She slipped away, finding a small cottage-like structure near the garden where the reception was being held. She searched for a quiet room and stepped inside.
"Oh my goodness!" she gasped, clutching her already fragile heart.
Kellan was already there.
His shirt was half-unbuttoned, his tie loosened around his neck.
He didn't speak. He was sipping red wine, acting as though no one had walked in.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were here," she said.
He didn't respond and kept drinking.
She was about to leave when he finally spoke.
"If you go out back, you're going to regret it," he said, without looking at her.
She closed the door again, dragged a wooden chair that was placed beside it, and sat down.
Audrey stood up and poured a drink into the second glass on the table.
"Do you drink alcohol?" he asked, finally looking at her.
The question caught her off guard.
"Yes," she said, her eyebrows lifting slightly.
"Anya said you weren't allowed to drink alcohol," he said.
The name felt heavy in the air.
"I was sick at the time. I'm better now," she replied.
He said nothing.
She took a sip. It was bitter—sharply so—but that was exactly what she needed.
They sat in complete silence, equally grateful that no one had come looking for them.