Page 13 of Runaway Bride’s Husband

“You’re running?” he asked, the amusement instantly fading from his features. “Are you sure?”

My throat constricted and I dropped my eyes away, not wanting him to see that I was holding back tears. I dragged in a shaky breath, doing my best to gather myself before I looked back up.

In that moment, as our gazes clashed, it felt like he could suddenly see it all. The panic welling from deep inside. The fact that I couldn’t make myself walk down that aisle. The agonizing I had done for all hours of the night after I’d been told that I would be getting married to Daniel Hawthorne.

We’d never even been on a date, for God’s sake.

Ryan’s gaze suddenly softened. He glanced toward the main doors. “If you’re going to run, you need to do it right now.”

I stared back at him, waiting for the lecture or the questions. There was no way he was just going to let me go without asking why or telling me I was being ridiculous, but instead, he just raised both eyebrows at me.

“Go now, Maggie.”

My heart hammered. When he held out his hand, I took it. Ryan pulled me out from under the table, and for a second, neither of us let go, just gripping each other’s hands for dear life, but then I tore mine away and pulled off my engagement ring.

While it probably would’ve been more cinematic to throw it at Ryan or toss it on the table, I didn’t even look at it, simply shoving it into his hand and taking off. Once I started running, I didn’t stop, sprinting through the ballroom, through a side door, and straight onto the street.

Someone honked, but I barely noticed. My dress was dragging on the asphalt and my shoes were slipping. I had absolutely no idea where I was or where I was going, but when I saw a cab, I flagged it down and yanked open the door.

“Drive. Please. Just drive.”

The cabbie glanced at me in the rearview, his eyes widening when he saw my dress, but as soon as he looked back up into my eyes, he nodded and threw the car into gear. “Where to?”

“Anywhere,” I choked out the word, wishing I had a better answer, but right now, I just didn’t. I also couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They were suddenly streaming down my cheeks in hot rivulets, making my face burn while the accompanying sobs hurt my chest. “I just need to get away.”

Finally, the cabbie punched down with his foot on the gas and pulled into the traffic as I covered my face with my hands. I didn’t have my purse, my phone, or any money whatsoever. I’d left it all up in the bridal suite.

Obviously.

I’d run out of my own wedding like a lunatic. But what else was I supposed to do? I never should’ve been put in this situation in the first place.

Over the last couple of months, I’d tried to tell my parents I didn’t want this. Time and again, I’d tried, but they’d looked at me with the patient certainty of people who thought I was freaking out about nothing.

You will learn to love him.

That was all they’d said. Over and over, whenever I’d told them that I couldn’t do it, they’d insisted it would be fine. They’d listed all of Daniel’s many fine qualities like the fact that he possessed them meant I naturally had to fall in love with him at some point.

As if love is something that can be taught.

That was how these arrangements worked. Families were convinced they knew what was best, but feeling panic and terror when I was supposed to walk down the aisle… How is that what’s best for me?

As the tears and the anger finally started subsiding, I wiped my face and looked up into the rearview mirror again. “I don’t have any money.”

The driver glanced up at me again, mercifully deciding to take pity on me. “It looks like you’ve had quite a day, ma’am. I can always give you my bank⁠—”

“Wait! That’s it,” I said. “Can you take me to the nearest branch of Pembroke bank?”

My family owned it. If he could just take me there, I should be able to get some money out of my account.

The cabbie blinked a few times. “Alright. You got it.”

We pulled up to the bank a few minutes later and I walked inside looking like a runaway princess, explaining to a teller I’d met earlier this week that I needed cash. Somehow, I managed not to die of humiliation when I broke down all over again, sobbing intermittently as I gave her my account details.

After withdrawing enough to pay the taxi driver and book a hotel for the night, I left, climbing back into the car and giving him the name of a place where I’d stayed before. There was no going back now. I’d already stormed out of my own wedding. I needed someplace to figure out my next move, and right now, that hotel was it.

As he slowly pulled away from the curb, I turned to the window and stared out of it, not knowing what I was going to do tomorrow or the day after that.

I had no idea how long I could stay gone before my parents found me. All I knew was that it was inevitable they would. There were eyes and ears everywhere these days, and by now, I was sure the news of the runaway bride was spreading like wildfire.