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“Hannah,” someone called.
Hearing her name pulled me from thoughts. My head snapped to the man now standing in the aisle, hand outstretched to my soon-to-be-wife.
“Sebastian?” Noah questioned beside me.
Sebastian… the man calling out to my Hannah was Sebastian Evans, one of Noah’s closest friends. We weren’t close, but I knew of him.
“Hannah,” he called again.
Enough! My mind hollered as I took a step forward, but it was too late.
Hannah released my hand. She let go and never looked back as she ran towards him.
I stood there, too shocked to move or speak. That moment was hell on earth.
For hours, I could not speak. My mind was blank. I tried to understand, but my brain—my heart—were both shot. I leaned on the balcony of the dressing room, staring out at the ocean until the sun set. Only then did I regain function of my body, and I ran. Stupidly, I ran out towards the front. All the guests, with the exception of family and the cleaning crew, had left. When I got outside, I saw my brother ripping the “Just Married” sign from the Bentley.
“Eli—”
“Keys.” I walked around to the driver's side of the car. As I opened the door, I saw a woman dressed in blue step in front of me. She had long wavy brown hair and brown skin. Her brown eyes were now rimmed with red from what I could only guess was crying. She stood tall with her head held high.
“This is your number, right?” She pointed to the invitation card with the RSVP section of numbers before quickly texting something on her phone and adding, “Please kick his ass.” She turned towards her taxi without waiting for another word from me.
“Gwen!” Noah called out to her before groaning, “Jesus. He was her fucking fiancé.”
Feeling my phone vibrate, I pulled it out of my coat pocket.
He left his email open on my phone. I just got a confirmation.
Prescott Hills
Old Montauk Hamptons, NY
Room 1204
“Eli, don’t—”
Ignoring him, I got into the car, and without a second thought, I drove; the rage in me growing with each passing mile. I gripped the steering wheel, gritting my teeth together as I couldn’t stop my mind from whirling. They were no more than twenty minutes away from the chaos they had unleashed on my life.
When I pulled up at Prescott Hills, I was prepared to kick the door down when I saw both of them walking towards me, completely obvious, still holding those godforsaken hands.
“Eli!” Hannah gasped, no longer in her dress, but wearing jeans and a gift shop shirt.
Ignoring her, my fist collided with his jaw and he fell against the wall, but that didn’t stop me. Grabbing him by the collar, I kept punching until my knuckles cracked on his face.
“STOP! Eli! Stop or I will call the cops, I swear,” she yelled.
I wanted to kill him, but by some miracle, I managed to stop. “Call the cops?” I stood rigid, ignoring the pain in my hand and the fucker at my feet. “What's stopping you, Hannah? Make this day even more special!”
She hung her head, dropping to her knees beside him.
“I understand that you hate—”
“You understand nothing.” I cut him off. I couldn’t even look at them anymore. I turned to leave but stopped, pulling out my phone and taking a picture of his bloody face. It gave me no real satisfaction, but what the hell. Maybe that other woman would get some peace of mind out of seeing it.
Entering my car, all I could wonder as I drove was, how? How could this happen?
****
