His 99th Excuse, My Empty Aisle

Father Thomas cleared his throat. The low sound carried easily into the vaulted ceiling of the sanctuary. He opened his leather-bound book of vows and looked up.

"Miss Vance," the priest whispered, leaning over the wooden pulpit. "We are fifteen minutes past the hour. Have we received any word from the groom?"

I gripped my phone tighter. "Give him another minute."

Harper shifted her weight on the altar step. Her taffeta bridesmaid dress rustled loudly in the suffocating quiet. "Hazel, two hundred people are staring at us. Where the hell is Julian?"

"He said he was stuck on the highway," I replied, refusing to break eye contact with the empty space beside me.

"On the highway?" Liam scoffed from the opposite side of the altar. "I checked the traffic apps. The interstate is completely clear."

"Liam, keep your mouth shut," Harper snapped, stepping closer to me. "Call him again, Hazel."

"I already called him six times."

"Then send another text."

"I have sent ninety-eight texts, Harper. He is ignoring all of them."

"Father Thomas," I said, my voice tight. "What time does your watch say exactly?"

The priest checked his wrist. "It is exactly two-fifteen, Miss Vance."

"He is fifteen minutes late."

"Maybe he got lost," Harper offered blindly.

"He grew up two streets away from this church," I told her. "He walked these exact sidewalks every day for ten years."

"Traffic is a nightmare downtown," Liam argued defensively from his spot.

"On a Sunday morning?" I challenged him. "Try a different excuse, Liam."

"Look, Julian is a good guy. He would never just ditch you. Give the guy a break."

"I am standing at the altar in a fifty-pound dress, Liam. I am out of breaks to give."

The tight fishbone corset of my bridal gown dug fiercely into my ribs. The restriction made my lungs burn. I tried to pull in a deep breath, but the structured bodice refused to yield an inch.

"Perhaps we should make a brief announcement," Father Thomas suggested. "We could offer the guests some refreshments while we wait?"

"No." I squeezed the stems of my bouquet. "We wait right here."

"Hazel, this is utterly humiliating," Harper muttered. "He left you standing at the altar."

"He would never do that."

My phone vibrated violently against my palm. The bright screen flared to life, cutting through the dim, stained-glass lighting of the church.

A new message from Julian.

*Chloe got into a car accident. She is completely terrified and refuses to release my hand. Push the ceremony back two hours. I will be there as soon as she calms down. I am so sorry.*

My thumb hovered over the glowing words. I read the notification once. Then twice.

"Is it him?" Liam asked, stepping forward to invade my space.

"Yes," I answered. My voice sounded hollow, like it belonged to a stranger.

Harper grabbed my forearm. "Read the message aloud, Hazel."

"No."

"Hazel, tell me what he wrote," Harper demanded, her nails pinching my skin.