Page 3 of Shattered

“Delia, maybe we should?—”

“Now.”

She handed it over with shaking hands.

Two messages. Both from Jake.

Jake

I can’t do this. I’m sorry.

And then, seconds later.

Jake

Jennifer says she’s pregnant.

The vestibule went silent. Or maybe I just stopped hearing—couldn't tell which.

Jennifer. His ex-girlfriend from college. The one he’d sworn was ancient history, a mistake from when he was young and stupid and didn’t know what he wanted. The one he’d promised me was completely out of his life.

Pregnant.

I read it again. Again. The words stayed the same, refused to make sense.

My brain tried to process the logistics. Jake had been with Jennifer. Recently enough that she was pregnant. He’d been sleeping with her while planning our wedding. While picking out songs and tasting cakes and promising me forever.

And now he was telling me via text message. Two texts. Like our entire relationship, our entire future, could be summarized in two sentences sent from wherever he was hiding.

Not even the courage to face me. Not even the decency to call.

“Delia.” Daniel was suddenly beside me, his hand on my elbow. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Where is he?” My voice didn’t sound like mine. It was too high, too thin, like it might shatter. “Where’s Jake?”

“He’s not here.” Daniel’s voice was worried, careful. The doctor voice. “He’s not coming.”

The doors to the sanctuary were still closed. Three hundred people on the other side, waiting.

They didn’t know yet. Didn’t know that the groom had abandoned the bride before she even made it down the aisle.

That I was standing here in my dress reading texts that were demolishing my entire life.

“I need to—” I couldn't finish. My mother was asking questions, confused, her earlier clarity already slipping. Why weren’t we going in? Was it time? Where was Jake?

“We need to go,” Daniel said firmly to Sarah. “Help me.”

They guided me away from the doors, away from music still playing as though nothing had changed, back toward the bridal suite. My legs moved but I couldn't feel them. Just expanding numbness starting in my chest, spreading outward.

Someone—Daniel—was explaining something to my mother in a low voice. I couldn't hear over the rushing in my head.

In the bridal suite, Sarah closed the door. The sounds from the church faded to a muffled hum.

I sat on the floor. Standing had become impossible. The dress pooled around me—white silk, lace, delicate beading that had cost too much and now meant nothing. Three months finding this dress. Appointments, fittings, alterations to make it perfect.

For nothing.

Jake had left.