Chapter 11
Claudia followed her into the side room before Rowan could close the door, which annoyed her a little—she wanted to get away from everyone.
She settled for pacing back and forth in the small room. “I can’t believe he did that.”
“Which one,” Claudia asked.
“Luke. Michael. Both! Both of them! Who does that? Who interrupts a wedding? Who leaves their bride at the altar? This isn’t supposed to happen in real life!”
“What did Michael say?”
“That he was doing it for me.” She wasn’t sure she believed that. It felt more like his ego was in play, especially after their talk the night Claudia and Maria got engaged. How could he have just walked away? He’d made the decision before she’d even had time to process what was happening.
Someone knocked softly on the door and Claudia peeked through, then opened it to allow Maria to slip in.
“Did you know?” Rowan asked accusingly.
Maria stopped like a deer caught in headlights. “What?”
“Did you know Luke was going to interrupt the wedding? Is that why you told Claudia to ask me if I wanted to run?”
“No! I just…had a feeling you might be having second thoughts.” She hunched her shoulders forward a little.
Making Maria feel bad made Rowan feel even crappier. Maria wouldn’t sabotage her wedding on purpose.
“I’m sorry. I’m just trying to get a grip on what’s happening.”
“I hate to bring this up,” Maria said. “But the cops are here.”
Rowan threw up her hands, then pressed them to her diaphragm. Her perfectly tailored dress was suddenly too tight and felt like it was getting tighter by the second. The whole situation was pressing down on her and she couldn’t catch her breath.
“I need to get out of this dress. Get me out.” She tugged at the skirt and fumbled with the closure at the back. “Get me out!”
Maria and Claudia rushed to her.
“Okay. Okay. Calm down,” Claudia said.
“I can’t breathe,” she said.
“It’s loose. You’re out.”
Finally, the dress gave and she inhaled as if it was the first breath she’d taken after almost drowning. She pushed the fabric over her hips and stepped out of the puddle of satin and lace.
Frantically, she searched through the piles of clothes on the chairs and small couches but couldn’t find her bag with the sweats and button-down she’d worn while getting her hair and makeup done.
“Here.” Maria held out her overnight bag.
“Thank you.” She kicked off the strappy heels she’d found on sale, stripped off the garter, and pulled on her pants and shirt.
“What do you want to do?” Claudia asked.
“I don’t know. Crawl out a window and disappear for a few days.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I can’t get out there and face all those people. All the shame and judgment. My fiancé jilted me—literally at the altar.”
“No one’s going to judge you,” Claudia said.
