Only Me to Count On

The silence in St. Mary's Cathedral was deafening.

I stood at the altar in my custom Vera Wang gown, the silk cascading around me like spilled cream, clutching a bouquet of white lilies that had cost more than most people's monthly rent. Two hundred empty mahogany pews stretched behind me, their burgundy velvet cushions pristine and untouched. The afternoon sunlight filtered through stained glass windows, casting rainbow shadows across the marble floor—a beautiful backdrop for absolutely no one.

My phone buzzed against my thigh for the fifth time. Nathan's name flashed on the screen, but when I swiped to answer, it went straight to voicemail. Again.

"This is ridiculous," I whispered to the empty cathedral, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

The wedding coordinator, Mrs. Chen, had given up her cheerful facade an hour ago. She now stood near the entrance, whispering urgently into her headset, probably trying to figure out how to explain to the caterers that no one was coming to eat the seven-course meal we'd planned for months.

I pulled out my phone again, my fingers trembling as I opened Instagram. The notification had been haunting me for the past twenty minutes, but I hadn't been brave enough to look.

There it was: a video post from my stepfather's account. "Welcome home, Serena Sterling!" The caption was accompanied by champagne glass emojis and heart-eye faces.

I pressed play.

The airport terminal buzzed with activity as my family—my mother Margaret, stepfather Richard, and my half-brother Derek—stood in a tight circle, their faces glowing with genuine joy. And there was Serena, my stepsister, looking effortlessly stunning in a cream cashmere coat, her dark hair falling in perfect waves as she laughed at something Derek said.

But it wasn't Serena that made my blood run cold.

It was Nathan.

My fiancé—my supposed-to-be-husband-in-thirty-minutes Nathan—stood directly behind Serena, his arm casually draped around her waist like it belonged there. His smile was the same one he'd given me when he proposed six months ago, except now it was directed at her. The way he looked at Serena, the way his fingers splayed possessively across her hip, the way he leaned down to whisper something in her ear that made her throw her head back and laugh—

My hands started shaking so violently I nearly dropped the phone.

The video continued for another thirty seconds. Thirty seconds of my family fawning over the golden child who'd just returned from her prestigious fashion program at Parsons Paris. Thirty seconds of Nathan acting like he'd never heard of Harper Sterling, let alone promised to marry her today.

The bouquet slipped from my numb fingers, lilies scattering across the altar steps like fallen snow.

My phone rang.

Nathan's name appeared on the screen, and for a moment, hope fluttered in my chest. Maybe there was an explanation. Maybe this was all some terrible misunderstanding.

"Hello?" My voice cracked.

"Harper." His tone was flat, irritated, like I was interrupting something important. "Look, don't be so dramatic