The Runaway Bride

JADE

The numbers didn’t lie. And unfortunately, they weren’t in my favor.

I leaned back in my chair, letting out a frustrated sigh as I stared at the screen like it had personally offended me, raking my hand through my long wavy brown hair. If looks could kill, my laptop would’ve died a very sparky death. Jewel Event Planning, my passion project, my pride, my very own stubborn middle finger to my parents, was on life support. And the pitiful life support I’d been operating on was up. Clients had dropped off, one by one, like flies escaping a burning room. No new bookings in weeks and months. Our last wedding gig ended in a cake fight and a lawsuit.

Apparently, the groom didn’t know the bride had a boyfriend.

So romantic.

And now, my lovely parents had swooped in with their unsolicited opinions, reminding me yet again that I should never have “wasted time chasing party decorations” when I had Pete. According to them, I was meant to be lounging by his poolside, perfecting my wifely duties, not “pretending to be a working-class girl.”

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. I needed wine. A gallon, preferably.

“Jade?” I heard my mother’s voice echo down the hallway. Dinner in twenty. Please put on something decent. And don’t wear those horrible flats.”

I looked down at my very comfortable, very scuffed flats. Then I looked at the heels sitting in the corner of my room like the tiny torture devices they were and sighed, stifling a curse.

Pete and his family were coming over. So were the rest of mine. Yay. Nothing felt more like family than a room full of passive-aggressive compliments and judgmental glances to spice up a Tuesday evening.

I shut my laptop and dragged myself into my closet. After ten minutes of trying to find something that said “I’m effortlessly elegant but also not trying too hard,” I settled on a cream dress that I didn’t completely hate. I pinned my hair up, slapped on some mascara and lip gloss, and stared at my reflection.

“You look like you’re about to walk into your own execution,” I muttered.

With those sharks, who knew? Maybe I was.

Downstairs, the air already smelled like expensive wine and overcooked lamb, Mom’s go-to when she wanted to impress people with her money but not her cooking.

Pete arrived first, of course. Always punctual. Always polished. He walked in with that same confident, slightly smug smile and kissed me on the cheek like we were already married.

“You look great, babe,” he said, adjusting the collar of his designer shirt. “I love it when you wear white." It makes you look... pure.”

I gave a tight smile. “Wow. Thanks. That’s exactly the look I was going for…virginal and colorless.”

He didn’t catch the sarcasm. He rarely did. He was a bit thick that way. I couldn’t really blame him though. That’s what happens when your parents buy your way in and out of university as well as into job opportunities.

Soon, the house was full- it had his parents, my parents, my aunt, who always wore too much perfume, a cousin who kept looking at her nails like being there physically pained her.

Laughter echoed around the dining room table. Wine glasses clinked. My father and Pete’s father were deep in conversation about golf or stocks or whatever men like them talk about when trying to compare power levels without being too obvious.

I sat next to Pete, smiling politely, nodding occasionally, but mostly thinking about how I used to feel excited around him. Back in high school, Pete was my first boyfriend. My first kiss. First date. First… well, everything. Back then, he had seemed larger than life. So charming, ambitious and attentive. Perfect.

Now, he felt more like a to-do list I was obligated to complete.

“How’s the business, sweetheart?” his mother asked, giving me a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s fine,” I said.

“Still playing with flowers and tablecloths, I see.” She laughed like it was a joke, but it wasn’t. I had the brief urge to claw out her eyes. Gasp. What a horrendous thought towards your own in-law, Jade Laurent!

Pete leaned over and whispered, “You know you don’t have to do all that after we’re married. You can focus on the important stuff.”

I blinked. “Like what?”

“Like us. Our future. Maybe start thinking about kids.”

I almost choked on my wine. We hadn’t even gotten engaged yet, and he was already decorating the nursery?

Before I could recover with an answer, Pete stood up. “Everyone, if I can have your attention…”

Wait.

Oh no.

No.

No no no.

Nope. The f**k? No. Please no.

This wasn’t happening.

He smiled down at me, then reached into his pocket. “Jade, we’ve been together a long time. And I can’t imagine my future without you. You’re beautiful, talented, and the perfect woman to stand beside me.”

I knew this moment was coming. I just didn’t think it would be now. Not in front of all these people. Not while my entire career was falling apart and my parents barely spoke to me unless it was to scold or redirect.

He got down on one knee and pulled out a ring so big it could blind someone.

“Will you marry me?”

Every eye in the room turned to me.

I felt like I was floating outside my body. Like someone else was moving my lips when I heard myself say, “Yes.”

Well, don’t be too excited or anything, Jade.

Why was I talking to myself in third person? Oh my God, was I losing it?

Applause exploded around us. My mother wiped a tear. Pete’s father clapped him on the back. Someone popped open another bottle of wine. My aunt shrieked with joy and immediately began asking about wedding venues.

Meanwhile, I sat there frozen, Pete’s arm now draped possessively around my shoulder, and my future being planned around me like I wasn’t even there.

Wedding date discussions started right away.

“Why wait too long?” Pete’s mother said. “End of the month is perfect.”

“Two weeks should be enough,” my mom added. “She’s not exactly swamped with work these days.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” Pete said. “You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

Except I did. Because none of this felt real. Or right.

And as the voices around me blurred into noise, I stared at the ring on my finger and wondered how the hell I was going to get out of this.