Hollowed it. Carved it out.
Until there was nothing left but space.
The convoy disappeared behind the curve.
Gone from sight.
But I stayed there.
Staring.
At the empty road.
At the place where they had been.
As if I could hold onto it long enough—
They might come back.
Pain tore through my chest like something alive, like a wound that refused to close no matter how much blood had already been spilled.
My mind kept replaying it—the flicker of her hand against the glass, the hollow depth in her eyes, the way she didn’t look back a second time.
Gone.
And I had let her go.
My jaw tightened until it hurt.
“Boss...”
The voice came from behind me.
Renzo, my third in command.
I didn’t turn immediately.
“It’s almost twelve,” he said, his voice steady but carrying a hint of caution. “Everyone has been waiting in the church since eight.”
He paused, deliberately choosing his next words.
“Your bride is still at the altar,” he added more quietly. “She hasn’t sat down once. She’s been standing there the entire time.”
My eyes flickered at that.
“Three hours,” he continued. “She refused to sit, no matter how many times she was asked.”
Three hours.
Standing. Waiting.
For me.
“We promised them you’d be there by noon.”
Silence followed.
Heavy. Expectant.
