They Loved Me After Death

Chapter 2

Halfway through the haunted house, something broke down and the lights came on. An announcement told everyone to head back the way they'd come. Wesley brightened. "Perfect. We can film Tessa waking up. She'll take one look at herself and start crying again."

Dylan frowned. "Leave her alone. We've got the rehearsal tonight."

I watched his face. Somehow, it still hurt. He'd say one thing in my defense, and I'd make a hundred excuses for him. Now I heard him clearly: he wasn't worried about me. He was worried I'd hold up the wedding.

My body hadn't moved. Beneath the brim of my hat, my skin had turned gray.

Molly kicked the bench. "Tessa, get up." Nothing. She gave me a push. My arm slipped off the bench, my fingertips hanging toward the ground. Her smile faltered.

Dylan hurried over and put my arm back. I moved closer before I could stop myself. Then he spoke. "Don't touch her. She'll wake up and say you were picking on her again."

Molly relaxed and pressed her ice-cold drink against my stomach. "Maybe this'll wake her up." Condensation trickled down my dress.

Gavin took photos. Wesley changed the group chat's name from Tessa's Wedding Crew to Operation Get Over Yourself and uploaded the video.

Messages appeared almost immediately.

A: Did she actually pee herself?

B: Is she going to have an attack at the wedding, too?

C: Dylan's brave. Imagine marrying that.

My bridesmaids were in that chat. So were my coworkers and Dylan's relatives. I'd asked each of them to avoid strong perfume and smoking indoors. I'd even arranged asthma emergency cards for every place setting. Now it was all a joke.

I tried to knock the phone out of Wesley's hand. My palm went through it again and again, until I was too numb to feel angry anymore.

Molly shook with laughter. "Tessa's going to leave the group chat when she sees this."

"No, she won't," Wesley said. "She's been chasing Dylan for years. The wedding's booked. You think she'll let a few hurt feelings get in the way?"

Dylan said nothing. A message came in from the officiant, asking whether I wanted to say a few words before we exchanged rings. Molly took Dylan's phone and answered for me.

Dylan: No. She can't breathe when she gets emotional. We don't need her collapsing in front of everyone.

Dylan glanced at the screen. "That works."

Just like that, the speech I'd spent 2 weeks writing was cut from the ceremony. There were only three lines on the card.

Dylan, I used to think that if I loved you hard enough, you'd love me back.

Now I know that staying with someone who doesn't value you only teaches them they can hurt you and get away with it.

I won't be at this wedding.

His phone rang. It was my mother. "Are you having a good time?"

"Tessa's sulking again," Dylan said flatly. "She's lying down and won't get up."

Mom sighed. "She's always been like this. The minute something important comes up, there's a problem. Don't indulge her. You can sort out that attitude once you're married."

I stared at the phone and tried to smile. Even the people who knew me best didn't believe I was really in pain.

Mom asked to speak to Molly. Was she too hot? Had she eaten? She told Dylan to look after her. She hung up without asking about my asthma once.

Dylan lifted the drink off my stomach and handed it back to Molly. "Don't waste it."

All four of them left again.

A cleaner stopped beside the bench. Hesitantly, she reached toward my nose to check whether I was breathing.

"Over here!" Someone was calling her to clean up a spilled drink. She hurried away.

The sun climbed higher. Beneath the mask, my lips had turned a deep, dark purple.