My Wedding Was Stolen I Left For Good

Chapter 4

A crowd was gathering fast around us, swelling larger by the second.

I had no clue what ridiculous farce was even unfolding in front of me.

A dark, scheming glint flickered through Valerie's eyes for a split second.

All of a sudden, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around me. "Elena, I really didn't mean to! What do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

I felt her fingers hook under the edge of my face mask, yanking down hard to tear it off.

I threw myself backward to dodge, fast as a whip.

She let out a shrill scream and toppled over backward.

Sebastian moved like lightning, rushing forward to catch her. The second he steadied her, he roared at me, his voice thick with rage.

"Elena, what the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind?"

Before he could even process what was happening, his eyes locked onto my now unmasked face, and his pupils shrank to pinpricks in shock.

Several pairs of eyes swiveled to pin me in place all at the same time.

The whole venue went dead quiet for a full beat.

Then someone sucked in a sharp, horrified breath.

Soft rustles of hushed muttering and whispering rippled across the crowd.

"Oh my god, that's so gross."

"What's wrong with her face? It looks totally messed up!"

"Who even is that? Why is she at someone else's wedding?"

"She must be here to crash it, right? That face is terrifying."

Someone pulled out their phone, pointed the camera straight at me, and the flash flared bright white, searing my eyes for a split second.

I clapped a hand over my face as fast as I could, and reached down to grab my mask off the floor, only to see it was already crumpled and dirty under someone's shoe.

Valerie pressed a hand to her mouth; her shock so obviously forced it was almost laughable.

"Oh my gosh, Elena! When did your face get this bad?"

Sebastian frowned, yanking off his suit jacket and lifting it to drape over my head and hide my face, but Valerie grabbed his arm to stop him.

She spoke in a low, quiet murmur, just loud enough for him to catch. "Sebastian, everyone's watching. Your jacket has the wedding boutonniere pinned to it . . ."

Sebastian froze mid-movement.

The hand holding his suit jacket drifted slowly back down to his side.

I stared at his hesitant profile, and my chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. In the end, I forced out a sharp, bitter laugh.

I bent down, picked up the dirty mask, turned, and walked away.

Sebastian moved to chase after me on instinct. "Elena!"

Right on his heels, Valerie's wail cut through the air.

"Sebastian, my hand hurts so bad . . ."

His steps froze dead in their tracks. I didn't look back.

For the next few days, Sebastian stayed away on a business trip and never came home.

That morning, I was jolted awake by my phone buzzing nonstop against the nightstand.

My coworker had spammed me with a string of messages:

Agatha: Elena, tell me this isn't you!

I frowned and tapped open the linked post, my heart plummeted into my stomach.

Someone had posted photos from the wedding online.

The headline read:

Disfigured Woman Crashes Wedding, Suspected of Jealousy Vying to Steal the Groom.

The photos had been framed so conveniently.

In them, I was glowering at Sebastian and Valerie with what looked like pure, unbridled hatred, while Valerie cowered in Sebastian's arms with the most innocent, wronged expression on her face. They'd even thrown in several unflattering close-ups of my scarred face after my mask got torn off.

Beneath the photos, the comments under the post were nothing but vitriol:

A: [Ugly people make the most trouble.]

B: [Her face is all messed up, and she still showed up to gross everyone out.]

C: [The poor bride, getting targeted by some creep like this.]

D: [Whoever marries this woman is the unluckiest guy alive.]

My mind went completely blank.

When I snapped back to my senses, my hands were shaking so bad I could barely tap open i********: to post a clarification.

I took photos of my hospital test report, of the wedding invitation printed with my name, and of the design sketches for the wedding dress I'd made myself.

I'm Elena Collins. I was supposed to be the bride yesterday. Valerie Morgan added banned chemicals to my cosmetics to deliberately disfigure me, then took my place at the wedding. I'm not lying. Here's the hospital report as proof.

Barely ten minutes after I hit post, my i********: post was taken down. A notification popped up on my account saying it was "temporarily suspended for spreading false information".

I froze, assuming it was just a system glitch. I signed up for a new account right away and reposted the whole thing, only for it to get deleted again.

Right as I was gearing up to post for the third time, my phone rang. It was Sebastian. His voice was tired, but there was a sharp edge of irritation under it.

"Elena, stop posting."

It clicked. My voice shook as I blurted out the question.

"You deleted them? Sebastian, I'm the victim here!"

He paused for a few seconds before speaking. "I know."

I stared, dumbfounded.

"But you can't post this. Valerie didn't mean it. If people online find out you were supposed to be the bride, her reputation will be ruined. How's she supposed to show her face ever again?"

I tried to say something, but it felt like an iron hand had clamped around my throat, squeezing all the air out of me.

It hit me all at once: Sebastian had never even stopped to think about what that viral post had already done to me.

He spoke again before I could get a word out.

"I'll handle this. You don't need to get involved. Oh, right. That honeymoon trip we booked was to a tropical island. The sun's way too strong there right now, you can't go with your face. Valerie mentioned she wanted to get away for a bit, so I'm taking her instead. You just stay home and focus on healing your face, yeah?"

I heard Valerie's voice in the background, loud enough that I was sure she wanted me to hear it.

"Sebastian, that island's been my dream spot forever!"

Sebastian said one last thing before hanging up.

"Elena, wait for me to come back."

The line went dead with a sharp click.

I stared at my phone in a daze for a few seconds, then popped out the SIM card and tossed it straight into the trash can.

My suitcase was already packed.

My flight left tonight.

Sebastian had no idea I was never going to wait for him to come back. Not ever.