Page 5 of Shattered

“That’s not helpful.”

“Eventually this becomes a story you tell at dinner parties. To make people uncomfortable.”

The comment was so unexpected, so wrong for the moment, that I almost laughed. The sound came out broken and sharp.

“That’s messed up.”

“Yes.”

Time passed—minutes or hours, I couldn’t tell. People came and went. Sarah returned with water I didn't drink, her phone buzzing with texts from her husband Hector.

My mother appeared, asked if we were married now, if she'd missed it. Daniel gently redirected her away.

Through it all, Axel stayed.

We sat in silence while the wedding unraveled outside. Eventually the shaking stopped. My hands steadied. The white noise in my head cleared enough for practical thoughts—getting out of this dress, going home, figuring out how to exist in a world where I'd been left at my own wedding.

Axel stood first, offered me his hand. I ignored it, pushed myself up. My legs were unsteady but functional. He kept on looking at the door, as if waiting for a signal.

Then he finally said, “Wait here.” And then he left the room.

When most of the guests were gone and it was safe to leave, Sarah and Daniel helped me get out. I had to hand it to them, though, even with their dating history from years ago, they were both still there for me. Always.

They led me out into a car. I didn’t care whose it was, I just wanted to get out of here. When I climbed into the passenger seat and closed the door, I looked at the driver and saw that it was Axel. I didn’t have the energy to argue or to question why he was driving me home. I just leaned by head back, and closed my eyes.

We didn't speak during the drive. He kept his eyes on the road, hands steady on the wheel, giving me silence to pull myself together.

At my building, he put the car in park. Left the engine running.

“Do you need help upstairs?” he asked.

“I’m not an invalid. Just abandoned.”

His expression didn’t change. “I’ll wait until you’re inside.”

I got out of the car, still in my wedding dress. I hadn't thought to bring other clothes. Naturally. Because “pack an emergency outfit for when you get left at the altar” wasn’t exactly on my bridal to-do list.

The doorman's eyes went wide. He had the good sense not to comment.

In my apartment, I went straight to the window and looked down. Axel’s car was still there, waiting.

I hated him a little for witnessing my lowest moment.

For being there when Jake wasn’t.

CHAPTER 2

Axel

(THREE HOURS AGO)

Today,I was going to watch the woman I loved marry another man.

I'd been practicing the smile for months—the one that said I was happy for them, that this was fine, that watching Delia Santoro walk down the aisle toward someone else didn't feel like swallowing glass. I perfected it in mirrors, tested it at work meetings, deployed it at the engagement party where Jake stood with his arm around her waist, thanking everyone for coming.

The smile held. It always did.

I sat in the third row, far enough back to observe without being obvious, close enough that leaving early would be noticed. The church was full. Three hundred people were here to witness what should have been the happiest day of her life. White flowers everywhere. A string quartet playing something classical and romantic. Light streaming through stained glass windows like the universe itself was celebrating.