Snapping My Ex-Mate's Wrist on Our Wedding Day

"Sixty minutes, Elora." Maya, my wedding coordinator, tapped her silver pen against her clipboard. "Are you ready to become Mrs. Thorne?"

"I've been ready for two years," I said. My fingers brushed the delicate white buds of the baby's breath bouquet. I had specifically asked the florist to wrap them around a few hidden white roses, thorns intact.

"Your dress looks flawless," Maya added. She crouched down, adjusting the heavy silk train of my gown. "Where is your sister? She’s supposed to be helping you with the veil."

"Selene said she needed to fix her makeup."

"Well, find her. I need you both in the staging area in ten minutes."

"Did you confirm the string quartet?" I asked.

"Yes, they are setting up in the garden right now," Maya replied. "Are you absolutely sure about the vanilla frosting on the cake? Kael mentioned he preferred dark chocolate. He called me twice this morning about it."

"I compromised on the venue," I said. "He can compromise on the cake. Besides, vanilla is classic. It's what we agreed on months ago."

"Fair enough. Call Selene. She has the rings, and the photographer wants group shots in the conservatory before the guests arrive."

Maya hurried down the corridor. I pulled my phone from the small bridal clutch on the table and dialed my sister’s number.

It rang twice. Then went to voicemail.

I adjusted my grip on the floral arrangement and walked toward the bridal lounge. The thick carpet absorbed the sound of my steps. The hallway smelled of fresh lilies and expensive wax.

I reached for the brass handle of the lounge door. It sat slightly ajar. A sliver of golden light spilled onto the hallway floor.

A faint, muffled ringtone drifted through the gap. Selene’s phone.

Before I could push the door open, a voice followed the electronic melody.

"Your phone is ringing." Kael's voice was low, rougher than the gentle tone he used with me.

My hand froze in the air.

"Ignore it," Selene answered. A soft thud echoed off the walls. "It's probably just my sister freaking out over a misplaced napkin."

"You should answer it."

"Why? So I can listen to her whine about her perfect day? I'm busy."

"Selene..."

"Are you annoyed, Kael? Does it bother you that she's out there playing the blushing bride while you're in here looking at me like you want to devour me?"

"You talk too much."

"And you think too much. Look at me."

My stomach twisted. The hallway suddenly felt entirely devoid of oxygen. I pressed my fingertips against the cool wood of the door.

"You don't have to do this, Kael," Selene said, her tone shifting to a mocking whisper. "You can still run."

"Don't start, Sel."

"I'm just saying. Look at this wedding. It's a joke. She's so... predictable. A baby's breath bouquet? A pure white dress? She's vanilla, Kael. You hate vanilla."

"Shut up," he muttered.

"Make me."

A sharp scrape of wood against the floorboards followed.