"Have you reached him?" I asked, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror.
Maya shook her head. "Straight to voicemail. I’ve called ten times, Celeste."
"Try his best man again."
"I did. Greg is out there in the lobby. He looks just as confused as we are."
"What about his mother?" I asked.
"Left my calls on read," Maya muttered. "Celeste, people are getting restless out there."
I stood up. I smoothed the tulle of my dress. It was a modest, off-the-rack gown.
"You sold your car to pay for the catering," Maya said, her voice laced with pity. "You shouldn't be the one dealing with this."
"I wanted this wedding to be ours," I replied. "Not a handout."
I had drained my bank account to pay for this venue, the food, the flowers. Three years of my own savings, scraped together on a standard employee's salary. I wanted to prove to Ronan that I could build a life with him from the ground up. I gave up the massive dowry my family prepared. I hid the fact that I was the sole heiress to the Dupont global empire. I did it all to protect his pride.
And now, he wasn't here.
The bridal suite door stood slightly open. Voices drifted in from the hallway.
"She really thought she could tie him down today," a woman laughed.
"I know, right? Ronan Fletcher is a rising star. She’s just a basic admin assistant. So desperate."
"Did you see the cheap centerpieces? She clearly paid for this whole thing herself. Talk about marrying up."
I kicked the door shut. The heavy wood silenced the cruel laughter.
"Ignore them," Maya said gently. "They don't know anything."
"They know the groom is missing," I said bitterly.
Before Maya could respond, the door violently swung open again.
My father, Arthur Dupont, marched into the room. His face was a mask of pure fury.
"Get out," he snapped at Maya and the two makeup artists.
They scrambled into the hallway without a word.
"Dad," I started.
"I am freezing every single one of his cooperative channels," my father bellowed. "I am pulling the plug on Fletcher Enterprises. By tomorrow morning, Ronan Fletcher will be bankrupt."
I rushed forward and grabbed his forearm. "No! Don't do that."
"He left you at the altar, Celeste!"
"We don't know what happened yet. He might be in trouble."
"My security team already swept the city. No accidents. No hospital admissions. He simply didn't show up." He pulled his phone from his suit pocket. "I am calling the board right now. I will have his shipping lines cut by noon."
I tightened my grip on his arm. I dug my nails into his jacket. "Dad, please. Stop."
He glared down at me. "You are a Dupont. I allowed you to play this ridiculous charade. I let you pretend to be a nobody. I watched you shrink your dowry and refuse my money just to coddle that boy's ego. And this is how he repays us?"
"If you destroy his company, the media will dig into why. My identity will be exposed. Everything I sacrificed for the last three years will be ruined."
"It is already ruined!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.
"Give me today," I pleaded. "Let me handle my own wedding. Do not make a single call."
He stared at me, his chest heaving with anger. He shoved his phone back into his pocket. "You have until midnight. Then, I crush him."
He turned and marched out.
I walked to the mirror and adjusted my veil.
Maya peeked her head back in. "Celeste? The officiant is asking what we should do."
"Tell him to ready his microphone."
"You're not going out there, are you?"
"I paid for this wedding. I am going to finish it."
I stepped out of the suite. I made my way toward the main hall. The string quartet had stopped playing long ago. A low buzz of restless chatter filled the room.
When I appeared at the top of the aisle, the noise died. Hundreds of faces turned toward me.
I walked forward. My shoes tapped softly against the marble floor. I kept my chin high.
"Where is the groom?" someone whispered loudly.
"She’s actually walking alone. How embarrassing."
"Look at her dress, it looks like it's from a mall."
"I told you he wouldn't show. He finally realized she's dead weight. Ronan dodged a bullet."
The insults hit me from all sides. I ignored them. I reached the altar and held my hand out to the officiant.
"Give me the mic," I said.
He hesitated. He handed it over.
I turned to face the crowd. "Thank you all for gathering here today. Unfortunately, Ronan has encountered a sudden emergency and cannot make it."
A collective scoff echoed through the venue. A few people outright laughed.
I gripped the microphone tighter. "We will not be proceeding with the vows. However, the reception is fully catered. Please, move to the banquet hall and enjoy the evening."
I handed the equipment back. I walked back down the aisle. I kept my back straight. I did not shed a single tear.
Hours passed. The guests ate the food, drank the champagne, and eventually left. Not a single person approached me to offer sympathy. Even Maya had to leave early for a family emergency. My father had abandoned the venue the moment I stepped on stage.
It was midnight.
I sat alone at the head table in the massive, dimly lit banquet hall.
Empty chairs surrounded me. Half-eaten plates littered the tables. In front of me sat a pristine, untouched steak and two full glasses of champagne.
The silence pressed heavily against my ears.
I stared at the empty seat next to me. The chair meant for my husband.
"Where were you?" I whispered to the empty room.
No one answered.
The tough facade I maintained all day finally cracked. Tears spilled over my eyelashes. They traced hot paths down my cheeks. I buried my face in my hands. My shoulders shook with silent sobs.
Three years. I gave him everything. I hid who I was. I poured my heart and my meager savings into a future he didn't even bother to show up for.
Suddenly, the sharp buzz of my phone shattered the quiet.
I wiped my eyes. I snatched the device from the table.
A text message glowed on the screen. It wasn't from Ronan. It was from an unknown number.
It was a photo.
