Before I Go

The heavy silk of my wedding gown felt more like a lead weight than a dream come true. I stood before the tall, mahogany doors of the chapel, my fingers trembling against the lace of my skirt. *Is this it?* I wondered, my chest tightening. *Am I walking toward my future, or off a cliff?* "Deep breaths, Miss Angel." Ella, my stylist, stepped back to admire her handiwork. She reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear before pulling the delicate veil over my face. Through the white mesh, the world looked blurred and hazy. "Don't let the nerves win today," she whispered with a supportive smile. "You look like a queen." I forced a nod, though my heart was doing frantic somersaults. Today, I was becoming Mrs. John Luke. Our history wasn’t a straight line; it was a jagged scar. Three years of dating had ended in a single morning. After a night of passion, John had vanished. No note, no call, just a cold, empty side of the bed. I spent months drowning in tears and drowning my sorrows in work at Stark Enterprises. As the CEO and the only one left to carry my late parents' legacy, I buried myself in spreadsheets to forget his face. Then, three months ago, he crawled back. He spoke of "hitting rock bottom" and "protecting me from his darkness." My head screamed *run*, but my heart—that traitorous organ—beat only for him. Plus, Grandpa was getting older. His constant pleas for me to find a husband and stop living in the office weighed on me. Now, here I was. Ready to say *I do* to the man who once broke me. I moved toward the entrance when a blur of movement caught my eye. A girl in a catering uniform rushed toward me, her face pale and her eyes wide with terror. She grabbed my arm, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Miss Angel... please," she croaked out. "Don't do it. Don't go in there." Ice water seemed to run through my veins. "What are you talking about?" "I heard them," she hissed, glancing over her shoulder as if a ghost were chasing her. "I heard what they planned—" Before I could demand an answer, she bolted. She disappeared into the side hallway just as the doors creaked open. "Amanda! What are you doing?" My sister, Karis, ran up to me, her heels clicking loudly on the marble. She saw my shocked expression and softened. "Hey, breathe. Did you forget your anxiety meds today? You’re shaking." "Karis, a girl... a worker. She told me not to marry him. Did you see her run past?" Karis looked down the empty hall and shook her head. "No one went by, Angel. You’re just seeing things because of the stress. Everyone is waiting. Come on, Grandpa is going to be so proud." I swallowed the lump in my throat. *Maybe she was right. Maybe I was losing my mind.* I took Karis’s hand, and we began the long walk. The small crowd of relatives blurred into a sea of faces. At the end of the aisle stood John. He looked devastatingly handsome in his black suit, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He watched me with a soft, steady gaze that made me forget the girl’s warning. We reached the altar. The priest began the ceremony, his voice booming through the quiet room. "We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony," the priest began. He spoke of sacrifice, of the sacred bond of marriage, and the promise of a life shared. John leaned in, his voice a low vibration that only I could hear. "You look breathtaking, Angel." I didn't trust my voice to speak, so I simply squeezed his hand. His skin was warm, grounding me. "I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest declared, a smile breaking through his stern features. "You may kiss the bride." John didn't hesitate. He pulled me close, his lips meeting mine in a firm, possessive kiss. For a second, all my doubts evaporated. I tossed my bouquet into the crowd, laughing as the bridesmaids scrambled for it. As we walked back down the aisle, hand-in-hand, the guests cheered. But as the noise swelled, I noticed John’s pocket buzzing. It wasn't just a vibration; it was a frantic, rhythmic pulsing of notifications. "You didn't answer your phone all morning," I joked, though my eyes remained on his pocket. "Even on our wedding day?" John’s smile didn't reach his eyes. He pulled his phone out, his face darkening as he read a message. His thumb tapped the screen rapidly before he shoved it back away. "Just work, love. I’m preparing a surprise for you," he said, kissing my forehead. "What kind of surprise?" "If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret." He pulled his arm away from mine. "Give me a second. I need to handle one thing." Before I could protest, he vanished into the crowd. I stood alone in the center of my own wedding reception, feeling a sudden chill. Across the room, I saw her again—the catering girl. She was standing by the exit, staring at me with a look of pure pity. I started toward her, desperate for the truth, but Karis intercepted me. "So, you're a married woman now!" Karis hugged me, beaming. "I can't wait to call Grandpa and tell him. He’ll be heartbroken he was too sick to come, but this news will cure him!" "Karis, have you seen John?" I asked, scanning the room. My husband had been gone for ten minutes. "Oh," Karis said, her expression flickering with confusion. "I just saw him through the window. He was sprinting toward a black SUV outside. He looked like he was in a massive hurry." I froze. "The car? We weren't supposed to leave for the hotel for another hour." I pushed past the guests and ran toward the heavy front doors, throwing them open. The driveway was empty. The black car was gone. My husband, the man I had just tied my life to, had vanished into thin air, leaving me standing alone on the gravel in a white dress that suddenly felt like a shroud.