THE RUNAWAY BRIDE

*4:47 AM* I had given up on sleeping when my phone lit up. Haven't slept in two and half days, really. For the past three hours I had been squeezing my eyes shut and hoping for the best. While my brain helpfully reminded me that *you're getting married in six hours* and *your bank account has $247 in it* and *you tried to call this off three nights ago and he talked you down*. The email notification glowed on my ceiling. *Re: Head Teacher Position - Final Decision* I knew before I opened it. *"...we felt other applicants had more refined experience with our demographic..."* Refined. Code for: not good enough for our rich kids. Code for: we can tell you're from Queens. I deleted it. After today none of this matters anyway. After today I'll never have to check my bank account again. I stared at the wedding dress hanging on my closet door – this white ghost in the dark. And I tried to remember why I said yes. --- Chelsea and the others showed up at eight with borrowed makeup and Youtube tutorials, filling my tiny apartment with noise and perfume and excitement. "I can't believe you're going to live in Manhattan," someone said while painting my face. "Actual Manhattan." "Hudson's so good to you," Amy added. "Getting you out of teaching." Getting me out of teaching. Like teaching was something I needed to escape from. Like I did not.. like I do not already love those kids. In the mirror, Chelsea caught my eye and gave the tiniest shake of her head. I shut my mouth. But when did I stop correcting people? Hudson's name flashed across my phone screen. He's calling. "Hey–sorry, this is crazy right now." People were talking in the background. "The flowers are wrong and my mother is losing her mind. I'm handling it. I love you. See you at the altar." He hung up before I could respond. This was the fifth time this week he said "I love you" while clearly doing something else. --- Doug arrived at 6:15 looking panicked, carrying Hudson's leather briefcase. "Everything's in here–rings, documents, cufflinks. Do NOT let anyone touch this. Hudson was very specific." His phone exploded with notifications. "Oh god, Hudson's mom is at the venue and the florist brought the wrong flowers–I have to go. Thirty minutes tops." Then he was gone, leaving the briefcase on my coffee table. "Should we peek?" Mara grinned. "Maybe there's a love note?" "Don't even think about it," Chelsea said, but everyone was already talking about hyphenating names and how Herrera sounded "more elegant" than Michalski and how Hudson "made something of himself." Made something of himself. Like I hadn't. They all piled out at 7:03 for breakfast sandwiches. The quiet hit immediately. It was just me. I stood up to grab a tissue from my purse. My elbow hit the briefcase. It tipped. Fell. Stuff went flying across the floor. "s**t–" I got on the floor and started gathering it all up. I grabbed at everything. Rings - got them. Papers - yes. Cufflinks - where did those go? There. My palm closed around a stack of index cards. They were bound together with rubber bands. Had those fallen out too? They must have. I picked them up. I wasn't reading them. Just picking them up. But then I saw the first card. Doug's messy handwriting: *BEST MAN SPEECH - Hudson & Sallie* I smiled. Actually smiled–this surprised, delighted, guilty smile. Oh my god. Doug's speech. What embarrassing Hudson stories were in here? My face got hot. This was private. But also– I pulled off the rubber band. Just one card. --- *I've been friends with Hudson since college. I have witnessed him create an empire out of nothing. But I've never seen him as happy as he's been with Sallie.* My chest did something warm. See? This was sweet. One more. --- *Last week, Hudson said something that truly stuck with me. He said: "I am so proud of how far she has come since we met."* My smile faltered. How far I'd come? Maybe the next card explained– --- *And it's true. When Hudson first met Sallie, she was this sweet, simple kindergarten teacher. But Hudson saw her potential. He saw what she could BECOME.* Sweet, simple teacher. What she could become. The smile was gone. Stop reading. Put them back. I picked up the next card. --- *Hudson's exact words: "She's learned so much about real culture, fine dining, proper social situations. It's amazing what a little guidance can do."* All the heat drained from my face. Real culture. Amazing what a little guidance can do. Like I was some kind of project. One more card. --- *Hudson said: "I love that I can give her opportunities she never would have had. I love being the person who elevates her."* Elevates her. Thirty seconds ago I was smiling. Blushing. Now I couldn't breathe. The front door opened. "We got you bacon egg and cheese–Sal?" Chelsea stopped. I was still on the floor, cards scattered around me. "The briefcase fell. I was just putting everything back." "Are the rings okay?" "Everything is fine." I shoved the cards back in, but my hands were still shaking. Chelsea looked at me like I had just witnessed a murder. "Just nervous." I said in my attempt to force a smile."Wedding day jitters I guess." She didn't believe me. Then Mara pulled me toward the bedroom and they were all over me – zipping the dress, pinning my hair, spraying and painting. They kept talking about how beautiful I looked. How lucky I was. How perfect it would all be. And all I heard was: *Sweet, simple teacher* *Amazing what a little guidance can do* *I love being the person who elevates her* I stared at myself in the mirror. Hair perfect. Makeup flawless. Dress like a magazine cover. Is this me? Or is this what he made me? Nobody answered. --- SALLIE There was a loose thread near the hem of my dress. A single thread. I'd been pulling at it for the last three blocks. If I pulled hard enough, would the whole thing unravel? Would I arrive at the church in my underwear and everyone would have to go home?