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I opened my mouth and closed it, trying to pick my words carefully. When I opened my mouth again, Chad cut me off.

“I know, Stunning isn’t it? So overcome with emotions you’re speechless.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, then re-emerged, beaming.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a knife, popping the blade open with a click.

“I’m going to help you up and to the bathroom so you can change,” he bent over and cut my ankles loose, then moved to my hands, pausing, “You’re going to keep behaving, aren’t you, Cordy?”

I eyed the knife before nodding my head.

“That’s my girl,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on my lips.

It took every ounce of willpower I had not to retch.

Now I’m hiding in the bathroom, with a plain wedding dress for my shotgun wedding, trying to think through a concussion and utter terror.

“Are you sure?” Chad asks more insistently.

With a resigned sigh, I take the dress off the hanger and step into it. I quickly zip the dress and slip on the matching plain shoes, then chance a quick glance in the mirror before opening the door. I will admit, if he wasn’t a raging psycho kidnapper living in a de-lu-lu land with a knife, he wouldn’t be a half- bad makeup artist.

Chad gasps dramatically, sweeping me into his arms, spinning us around to stand in front of the mirror.

Chad has on a suit: muted grey pants and jacket, a white undershirt, and a light blue tie. I can see the knife in his pocket, placed for easy access if I cease to behave. He looks elated while I look terrified.

“Time to go,” he says, looping my arm through his. We walk out to the car, which has a rather massive amount of damage to the front bumper, and Chad helps me in.

For a moment I consider trying to run.

Then Chad climbs in, knife in hand, and puts the car in drive.

“Just as a reminder of what could happen to that monster if you misbehave.”

I swallow hard and nod.

He sings along to the radio as we drive to whatever crazy ceremony he has planned.

The ceremony turns out to be at a walk-in wedding chapel, something I didn’t think existed outside of Las Vegas.

Chad pockets the knife, exiting the car to come around and help me out. His eyes dart from mine to the pocket he placed the knife in, conveying a clear message—misbehave at your own peril.

I force a smile and take his arm to walk into the chapel. We take a seat and watch other couples, clearly not in distress, exchange their vows. Several couples later, a man in a suit approaches us.

“Mr. Clark?”

“That’s me,” Chad answers.

“You’re next.”

“Excellent,” Chad responds before turning to me, “Let’s go get married.”

I try my best to smile as I walk with him down the aisle, but I just can’t. My mind races, flashes of what my life is going to look like once Chad takes me away, never to be found again. Of what’s to come after this sham of a wedding happens.

The officiant begins the ceremony, but I hear none of it.

Instead, I imagine what this would have felt like if it was Auggie.

Soft lighting, under a full moon, with all of our friends gathered around to celebrate with us. The vision is so real, my heart aches with longing. It would have been beautiful. Nothing like this farce.