Chapter three
1011 Words
Zara spent the next twenty minutes pretending she was fine.
It was a skill she had perfected over the years. Smile. Thank the guests. Accept congratulations. Ignore the whispers. Ignore the pity in some people’s eyes. Ignore the fact that her husband had disappeared from his own wedding reception.
The music resumed after an awkward pause, and the guests gradually returned to their conversations, but the damage had already been done.
Everyone had seen it. Everyone knew. The groom had walked away from his bride.
“Maybe it really is an emergency,” Amelia said, handing Zara a glass of water.
Zara forced a laugh.
“On our wedding day?”
Amelia opened her mouth, then closed it again. Neither of them believed it.
Before either could say another word, Zara spotted her father approaching. Richard Williams looked worried.
“Sweetheart, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course.” Another lie.
Her father studied her face carefully. For a moment, she thought he might press further, but instead he sighed.
“You should get some rest after tonight.” Something about his tone caught her attention.
“Tired already, Dad?” His smile seemed forced.
“It’s been a long day.” The answer felt rehearsed.
Before Zara could question him, someone called his name from across the room. Relief flashed across his face.
“I’ll talk to you later.” Then he was gone. Zara frowned. Her father had been acting strangely all week. Distracted. Nervous. The same way he was acting now. As if he was carrying a burden he couldn’t share.
The thought reminded her of the anonymous note hidden inside her clutch. Something isn’t right. The words echoed in her mind. A chill crept down her spine.
“Excuse me.”
Amelia squeezed her hand before walking away to answer a phone call.
For the first time all evening, Zara found herself alone. The ballroom suddenly felt too crowded. Too loud. She slipped outside onto one of the hotel’s private balconies. Cool night air brushed against her skin. Below, the city sparkled with thousands of lights. The view should have been breathtaking. Instead, she felt empty.
She rested her hands against the railing and closed her eyes. This wasn’t how she had imagined her wedding day.
When she was younger, she had dreamed of dancing with her husband. Laughing with him. Starting their future together. Not standing alone while guests whispered behind her back.
The balcony door slid open behind her. Footsteps followed. For one hopeful second, she thought Damien had come looking for her. Her heart lifted. Then she turned around, Only to find out that the woman standing there wasn’t Damien.
She looked to be in her late fifties. Elegant. Well-dressed. And completely unfamiliar.
The woman offered a small smile.
“Congratulations on your marriage.”
“Thank you.”
The woman studied her for several seconds. An uncomfortable silence settled between them.
“You look just like your mother.”
Zara blinked. The comment caught her off guard.
“You knew my mother?”
The woman’s smile faded. “Many years ago.”
Before Zara could ask another question, the woman stepped closer. Her expression became serious. Almost troubled.
“Can I give you a piece of advice?”
Zara hesitated.
“Alright.”
The woman lowered her voice. “Trust your instincts.”
A knot formed in Zara’s stomach.
“What do you mean?”
“If something feels wrong…” The woman glanced toward the ballroom. “…don’t ignore it.”
The exact same message as the note. Something isn’t right. Zara’s pulse quickened.
“Who are you?”
The woman seemed surprised by the question. Then sadness crossed her face.
“Someone who made the mistake of staying silent.”
“What does that mean?”
Before she could answer, another voice interrupted.
“There you are.”
Zara turned. Damien stood in the doorway. His expression was colder than ever.
The older woman immediately stepped back. Something passed between them. Recognition. Tension. History. It lasted only a second. Then it was gone.
The woman smiled politely. “I should leave.”
Without another word, she walked away. Zara watched her disappear into the crowd.
“What was that about?” she asked.
Damien’s gaze followed the woman.
“Nothing.” The answer came too quickly.
“She said she knew my mother.”
His jaw tightened. “So?”
“So I’d like to know who she is.”
“You don’t need to.”
The irritation in his voice surprised her.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Zara remembered why she’d wanted to see him.
“You left.”
Damien looked at her.
“What?”
“The dance.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“You embarrassed me in front of everyone.”
A flicker of guilt crossed his face.
It vanished so quickly she almost missed it.
“I had business to handle.”
“On our wedding day?”
“Yes.”
The coldness of his tone hurt more than she wanted to admit. She looked away before he could see it. Silence stretched between them. The city lights glittered below. Finally, Damien spoke.
“We should leave.”
Zara stared at him. “That’s it?”
“What?”
“No apology?”
Something dark flashed in his eyes.
For a second, she thought he might actually explain himself.
Instead, he simply said,
“The car is waiting.”
Then he turned and walked away. Zara remained frozen on the balcony. Anger rose inside her. Not sadness. Not disappointment. Anger.
For the first time since meeting Damien Blackwood, she found herself wondering whether she truly knew the man she had married.
And as she glanced back toward the ballroom, her breath caught.
Across the room, she spotted the older woman one last time.
The woman was staring directly at Richard Williams. At Zara’s father. And the look on her face wasn’t recognition.
It was fear.
- Writer
