The Bride He Left At The Altar

CHAPTER 2

SABINE'S POV

I don't remember the whole drive to the chapel. I remember gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles went white. I remember telling myself, over and over, that I was wrong, that this was some terrible misunderstanding, that Marcus would be standing outside when I arrived, laughing at how far I'd let my imagination run.

He wasn't.

Cars filled the parking lot, more cars than I could count, expensive ones. My stomach dropped as I parked crookedly across two spaces and got out, my legs shaking beneath me.

I could hear music from inside. Soft, gentle, the kind of music meant for walking down an aisle.

I pushed through the chapel doors before anyone could stop me.

Heads turned first, one row at a time, a slow wave of shock rippling backward through the guests as they noticed me standing there, out of breath, my hair a mess from the drive. I barely saw any of their faces. My eyes went straight to the front of the room.

Ivy stood at the altar in ivory. My dress. Not literally, but close enough, close enough that something in my chest cracked wide open at the sight of it.

Marcus stood across from her, dressed exactly the way he was supposed to be dressed for a wedding that was supposed to be mine.

"No," I said, my voice cracking through the silence. "No, no, no—"

My legs moved before I fully decided to move, pushing past startled guests, my heels catching on the carpet, until I reached the altar and grabbed Ivy by the arm.

"How could you?" My voice came out broken, louder than I meant it to be.

"Ivy, how could you do this to me?"

For one second, just one, something flickered across her face. Like a satisfied smirk.

Then it was gone, replaced so fast I almost doubted I'd seen it at all.

"Sabine," she said softly, her eyes filling with tears. "Please, not here."

"Not here?" I let go of her arm like it burned me. "You're marrying my fiancé five days after he was supposed to marry me, and you're telling me not here?"

The guests had gone completely silent now, phones lowering, whispers rising instead. I could feel every eye in the room on me, and some distant part of me understood exactly how this looked, a woman in jeans and an old sweater, hair wild, screaming at a bride in front of two hundred people. But I couldn't stop. I didn't know how to stop.

"You helped me pick this dress," I said, my voice shaking. "You sat with me for three hours while I tried on twelve different styles. You told me I looked beautiful in this one. You knew, Ivy. You knew this whole time and you let me stand there like a fool."

Ivy's eyes welled up further, her hand pressing to her chest like she was trying to hold herself together. "I didn't want any of this," she said, her voice trembling. "You have to believe me. I tried to stop it. I told Marcus this would destroy you."

"Liar," I whispered.

"Sabine, please." Her voice cracked beautifully, I have known her for years and I could tell she was pretending but I don't think the people in the audience noticed.

"I've been trying to protect you from this for weeks. I begged him not to do it this close to your wedding."

I turned to Marcus, desperate for him to say something, anything, to tell the room the truth, that this had all been planned, that Ivy wasn't the victim standing in front of everyone crying. His face was cold. Colder than I had ever seen it.

"Sabine," he said quietly. "You need to leave."

"Marcus—"

"You're embarrassing yourself." His jaw was tight, his eyes flat, like the man who used to hold my hand across restaurant tables had already been replaced by someone I'd never actually known. "This isn't the way to handle this."

"The way to handle this?" My voice broke completely now, tears finally spilling over, hot and furious. "You left me five days before our wedding to marry my best friend, and you're telling me I'm handling it wrong?"

Ivy pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, sobbing harder now, and turned toward the guests like she needed their comfort more than I did.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice thick with tears. "I'm so sorry, everyone. She's not usually like this. She's been struggling since the breakup, I think, I don't know, maybe she never really let go of him the way she said she had."

"What?" The word tore out of me. "I haven't let go? You're the one who—"

"She's been seeing other people," Ivy said suddenly, louder now, her eyes darting around the room like she needed everyone to hear it. "I didn't want to say anything, but she's been going out, meeting men, ever since Marcus told her the wedding wasn't going to happen. I think she's just, I don't know, maybe she's not in a good place right now."

The lie hit me like a slap. "That's not true," I said, my voice shaking so hard I could barely get the words out. "That is not true and you know it."

"Sabine, why are you doing this?" Ivy's voice wobbled, tears streaming freely now, her performance flawless in a way that made my blood run cold. "I told you about everything before, I told you weeks ago, why are you acting like this now? Why are you trying to humiliate me on my wedding day?"

I stared at her, my chest heaving, searching her face for even a flicker of the girl who used to stay up with me until two in the morning eating cereal out of the box and laughing while watching romcom. I didn't find her.

I looked at Marcus one last time, waiting, hoping, for something. A flicker of guilt. A single word in my defense.

He said nothing. He just watched me with that same cold, distant expression, like I was a problem he was waiting to be resolved without his involvement.

Someone touched my elbow. An usher, I think, or maybe a guest, gently trying to guide me toward the doors. I let them. I didn't have the strength left to fight the whole room.

I walked out of that chapel with two hundred pairs of eyes on me, Ivy's sobbing following me all the way to the doors, and I didn't look back once, not even when I heard her voice rise behind me, thanking the guests for their understanding, her tears drying the moment she believed I was gone.

I made it to my car before I finally broke completely, sitting behind the wheel, sobbing so hard I couldn't see the road in front of me, and somewhere underneath all of it, buried deep beneath the grief and the humiliation, something else was starting to burn.

I didn't know it yet, sitting there in that parking lot. But that was the last day I ever let anyone make me small.