Page 100 of The Wedding Run
A shadow of grief passes over Luke’s face before he retraces his steps up the aisle, past the bride and her father, and out the front doors.
Unable to move or even process what happened, I glance around at everyone staring at me, watching, speculating. Then my gaze lands on Nadine, who frantically waves me on. With numb feet, I shuffle to the front, up three steps, and take my place among the bridesmaids. Everyone glares at me, including the slack-jawed minister.
Feeling my face burn with embarrassment, I force a calm, all’s-well smile on my stiff face, as I’ve done a few times during a wedding disaster, though never one this disastrous. I focus on the bride clinging to her father’s arm. She glares at me as if what happened is my fault. But I didn’t plan it! She moves slowly up the aisle, and the guests, who aren’t already standing, remember their role in this ancient rite and rise in her honor. Recognizing she’s now the center of attention, she smiles.
The wedding marches on like nothing happened, yet my heart pounds in my chest.
“Who gives the bride in holy matrimony?” the minister asks.
“Huh?” The bride’s father looks confused. “I, uh… right. Sure. I do.”
All I can think about is Luke.
The look on his face.
The desperation reflected in his eyes.
The panic in his voice.
That I might be marrying Derek after all this last week.
And finally, his confession:he loves me.
But when did he realize that? And why didn’t he say so earlier? Or did he?
After all, just as my father expressed his love for me throughout my life by helping and guiding me, Luke has been there for me over the past week. Yes, he tried to rekindle my interest in Derek. But when Luke understood my true feelings, he dropped the façade and continued to support me.
Then, it hits me. I should have said,I love you, Luke!
But I didn’t. I just stood there, silent and in shock. What must Luke think? That I don’t care? That I don’t love him?
My throat emits a strangled sound as I hold back an eruption of tears.
The maid of honor turns to look at me.
Grief washes over me like ice-cold water. I can’t catch my breath. I bend over as wave after wave crashes over me. I’ve lost Luke. The moment when I should have spoken is gone. And he’s out of my life.
Suddenly, my face feels wet. Fat tears drop onto the gray silk dress. I choke back sobs, yet the tears keep flowing.
The wedding party swivels to glare at me. The minister stops speaking. The guests stare at me.
“Libby,” Derek hisses at me from the groom’s side. “Stop it.”
As if I could! I need to get out of here. I must find Luke.
Last week, I would have forced myself to wait, suppressed every tear, and kept everything in good order and at the right time. But I can no longer do that. When your heart tells you to do something, you must move. And move quickly.
I stumble down the stairs and manage to say, “I’m sorry.”
Then I dash up the center aisle, leaving my bouquet on the runner. That makes it the second wedding I’ve fled in the past week. It must be a world record.
CHAPTER 52
Libby
Storm clouds linger on the horizon. The air feels heavy and humid. Sweat beads on my forehead. I stand outside the church, scanning the parking lot for Luke’s beat-up old truck. There’s no sign of him. He must have left, and that has me wiping away more tears.
With no car of my own, my options are limited. I sneak into the church through a side door, not wanting to interrupt the wedding ceremony again. The minister’s voice carries through the hallways as he drones on about commitment, love, and marriage, which evokes another sob of pain and regret. I veer toward a side hallway and enter the bridal room where we stored our personal effects. I grab my purse, dig through it for my cell phone, and call Elle.
