1. Runaway Bride

Chapter 1

Runaway Bride

G race

A loud moan disturbed the stillness of the church hallway as it echoed off the walls.

I stood there, dumbfounded, as more moans and groans bounced around me. I didn't want to believe it, but there was only one logical explanation that made sense. Someone was having sex in the Sunday School classroom.

I should have turned around and walked the other way, but my feet propelled me forward on their own. I was in a trance as I crept down the hall, my brain rapidly firing questions I wasn't sure I wanted answered. Pep talking my way with each step, I told myself I was an adult. I could handle whatever was going on, but in the next breath, I was clutching the pearls around my neck.

I tried not to click my heels on the linoleum floor as I approached the open door. The moans were louder, more distinguishable, but they didn't completely block out the sounds of my heart pounding in my ears.

"Yeah, baby. Just like that."

"You're so tight."

"Doesn't she suck dick like a high-class whore?"

I rolled my eyes. Did men really think we found that kind of behavior sexy? No. I plastered myself against the wall and tried to lean forward enough to see through the crack in the door. When nothing was visible, I propped myself against the wall and took a deep breath.

I tried again to peek around the door, and this time, my eyes focused on the woman. The skirt of the bridesmaid's dress was draped over her back, exposing her bare hips and the globes of her rear end. The delicate green chiffon flowed down her back in sharp comparison to her bare skin. When I saw the blur of a man pushing in and out of her, I averted my eyes. Shifting back to her, I couldn't look away. It was my cousin, Clara.

I quickly leaned back against the wall to catch my breath. This was the last place I needed to be. I'd die of embarrassment if anyone caught me, and there was no quick explanation that would suffice. It was pretty self-explanatory.

"You look so good sucking his dick." The voice was familiar, but I couldn't place it in my distress.

I squatted down against the wall in my Matron of Honor dress. Here goes nothing , I thought to myself as I tried again to get a better look. I duck-walked a few steps forward and then pivoted on one of my heels, praying no one had heard the sound.It was a mistake. A huge mistake. I quickly stuck my fist in my mouth and prayed that no one had heard the squeak that had come from me. Reaching for the door, I steadied myself so that I wouldn't fall flat on my ass as I willed my stomach not to upchuck this morning's breakfast.

My husband, Matt, was the man fucking my cousin from behind.

"He's getting married today to a shriveled cunt. You better get him off," he told my cousin, smacking her ass. The sound rang in my ears.

"She sucks like a Hoover," the other man said. I couldn't see him from my crouch, but there was only one possibility. Brandon, my sister's fiancé. They were supposed to get married in two hours.

My husband and my soon-to-be brother-in-law were spit-roasting my cousin in the church. I quickly spun back to lean against the wall, panicking.

My thoughts were racing for my sister. Do I tell her? Do I not tell her?

My thoughts then turned towards my situation. What am I going to do?

I was jealous. My hands clenched into fists as I laid them in my lap, and my back teeth were grinding as I questioned what was wrong with me. Had I done something wrong? Was I not pretty enough? Young enough? Realistically, I knew it wasn't me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that if I had just been better at life, this wouldn't be happening. It made me question what more I could have done, but none of the answers relieved any of the self-doubt I harbored.

My husband had always made love to me, and what I was watching was an animalistic sacrifice. I had never asked for anything different, but at this moment, I was curious what it would feel like to be at the mercy of two men. No! This wasn't porn. This was real life, and I was watching my marriage fall apart. My jealousy gave way to anger. How dare Matt do this to me?

Matt power-thrusted into her pussy, shoving her whole body forward. It caused her to choke on Brandon's dick. My fighting instincts kicked in. Brandon would be lucky if I didn't cut his dick off. I watched true crime shows. I could make it happen.

I didn't know why, but something inside my brain screamed at me to get proof. I was too raw to process this right now, but I'd watched this scenario play out in our social circle before. Although I didn't know what was going to happen, I needed to be prepared for the inevitable. My sister had chosen a Matron of Honor dress with pockets, and I pulled out my phone.

As I recorded, Matt's face transfixed me. After eight years of marriage, I was pretty intimate with his O face. He would smirk in the beginning. A secretive smile like he was the master, you were the puppet, and he knew exactly which strings to pull. When he knew he had you, it would widen into an actual smile. I always thought that this was the moment where we silently professed our love again. Eventually, those lips would form the perfect O shape. If I wasn't close, I would have to get there before he came. Once he did, it'd be over.

His lips were forming the O. I had to get out of here. I turned and stood, shuffling my dress shoes as quietly as I could back to the bridal suite.

What am I going to tell my sister? Will she even believe me? We were cordial, but the day our mother passed away had broken any close bond we could have formed.

My mother had been out running errands on a routine Thursday when a drunk driver had blown through a red light, killing her on impact as she sat in the intersection, waiting to turn. As a ten-year-old kid, I had missed my mom and didn't understand why she was gone. As a thirty-year-old adult, I found solace in the knowledge she hadn't been in pain.

My sister had been only five then, and we hadn't developed that closeness that people talked about when they experienced trauma. Losing my mother had been severely traumatic. I had just wanted to be left alone, and Meredith had needed a mom. My Aunt Elizabeth had stepped in to help my dad as much as she could, but it hadn't been the same.

As I approached the bridal suite, I could see my aunt pacing outside.

"Oh honey, I am so glad you're here," she told me as she grabbed my upper arms and pulled me into a hug.

"What's going on?" I allowed myself to be comforted, even though she wasn't aware of what I'd experienced.

"I am not really sure," she answered. "I walked in with a few snacks for you girls, and all hell had broken loose."

I gasped as I pulled away from her. "Do you think hell is a curse word when you're in church?"

"We might not be much longer. Your cousin Clara is missing, you were nowhere to be found, and your sister's emotional." My aunt clasped my hands in hers and rubbed them.

I didn't have the heart to tell her what I had witnessed. I discreetly tried to shake my head to clear the images away. It was my secret for right now.

Aunt Elizabeth took a step back and held the suite door open for me. I took a deep breath, steeled my nerves, and prepared for the battle that lay ahead. My aunt wasn't wrong. Meredith was sitting at the table in her wedding dress, tears collecting in the corner of her eyes as her lips quivered.

I walked over and sat across from her, clasping my hands on the table in front of me, afraid they would shake if I didn't. This was all too much to handle for one day, but I didn't want to give Meredith any reason to believe something was off. I wasn't ready to discuss what I had seen, and she'd always been good at sniffing blood in the water. She'd hound me until the words flowed out, not realizing the damage she'd cause.

When our mother had passed, our father had done the best he could with Aunt Elizabeth's help, but a lot of the daily functions had fallen to me. I had made sure Meredith was ready for school and that she had a packed lunch. After school, I was the one who had helped her with her homework and cooked dinner so that it was ready when my father walked in the door. I resented none of it, but I knew Meredith had resented me for all of it. Instead of being her sister, I became her third parent, and it had added a layer of friction to our relationship that never disintegrated.

As I sat across from her, I waited. Her eyes never left mine, but her fingers were dancing on the table, the French manicure she'd gone for yesterday making the only sound in the room. She was nervous, but the tears were trickling down her cheeks. I'd seen this before, and the only solution was to let her talk when she was ready. If I rushed her, she wouldn't talk to me at all. I didn't keep track of how much time had passed.

"Grace, I can't do this," she wailed, placing her arms on the table and laying her head on top of them. "I can't marry him."

I wanted to laugh, but that would cause more unnecessary tension. When Meredith had plopped her head onto her arms, her veil had fluffed up in a pretty cloud of tulle. It was now caught on the tips of the tiara that held it in place, making a puff shape that sat on the top of her head.

I proceeded with caution. "What's going on?" I asked her.

She sat straight up from the table, but the puff didn't fall back into place. It was even more of a mess on the top of her head, casting a shadow across her forehead. I withheld my laughter. She wouldn't think it was funny if I told her it was a halo and that she could be the devil sometimes.

"I can't do this." She hiccuped and wiped the tears from her cheeks as two big black mascara streaks appeared. "This is not my happily ever after. "

Inside, I was throwing my hands up in celebration and dancing a jig on the table. On the outside, I was the one who remained calm, talking Meredith through this to make sure that she made the best decision for herself.

"Are you nervous?" I asked her. I was going to hell. This was purely for my own selfish gain. If I told Meredith that Brandon was cheating, she'd blame me because Matt was involved. I'd be guilty by association, even though I had no responsibility for any of their actions. If she decided on her own that marrying Brandon wasn't right, then I could leave his part out and deal with my marriage on my own terms. "You know, it's common to have some jitters right before your wedding."

Her sobs stopped immediately, and I watched as her face hardened, cracking her makeup. Meredith's eyes narrowed at me, and her fists clenched on the table. "It's not like that. I am about to be sick, and you just don't understand. You have a good marriage. I can't do this."

I understood more than she knew, but now wasn't the time to tell her. My marriage was in trouble, and I was trying to withhold my analysis of where it had all gone wrong for a later time. I wasn't perfect, even though Meredith was in this strange competition with herself to one-up me.

"Are you sure?" I asked again. "I was nervous when I got married, but it all worked out." It was a lie. How much of my marriage has been a lie?

"Yes, I shouldn't feel like this. I should be happy. I am not happy, Grace." Her forehead puckered into a frown, her mascara drying to her cheeks.

I stared deep into my sister's eyes. It was selfish, but I needed her to be absolutely sure of her decision. If she cancelled on her own, I'd be off the hook.

Meredith was right. She should have been happy, and the fear projecting from her eyes was anything but.

"Alright, get your stuff, and let's go. I'll tell Dad what's happening." I stood from the table and prepared to deal with the consequences. This felt right.Meredith might not have known what a douche canoe Brandon was, but she wouldn't be stuck with him either. From my experience, it was much easier to get in than to get out.

"Don't worry about your dad," Aunt Elizabeth chimed in. "I'll tell him what's going on, and we'll handle it. Just go, and keep me posted."

I looked at Meredith. She looked at me, and we both launched ourselves at Aunt Elizabeth.

She wrapped one of her arms around each of us. "It'll all work out," she reiterated. "Just go."

Meredith grabbed her purse and turned towards the other two girls in the room. My sister had wanted a small wedding party. She'd asked if I would be her Matron of Honor, and I'd agreed. She'd then chosen her two best friends from high school, and our cousin Clara.

I'd forgotten they were in the room, but when I turned towards them, I found them standing at the door with their purses over their shoulders in solidarity.

"We have the day to ourselves. Where should we go?" Meredith asked them.

"Let's just drive," Charlie said as she flipped a strand of her brunette hair off her shoulder. I'd always liked her because she was the voice of reason in the group.

"It's an adventure," Stella responded. I didn't know her as well as Charlie, but she'd never let my sister down. That was good enough for me.

Meredith looked at me. "Come with us," she said, not really asking me.

Matt was going to give me hell for disappearing, but I didn't care. Later on, I'd wonder if he even knew I was gone. No one had mentioned telling him I was leaving, and this question would plague me.

I grabbed my keys. "Let's go."