I kept my smile light, gave a tiny, dismissive shake of my head, and gestured for a waiter to show her to her seat.
'This idiot,' Blair thought. 'I've made it so obvious, and she still doesn't realize I'm here to crash her wedding?'
As soon as she was out of earshot, Maya hissed, "Look at her, strutting around like she owns the place. I can't stand it."
I shrugged. 'Right now, she thinks I'm the punchline. In her mind, she's about to star in her own little reunited-lovers melodrama, forcing the Vaughns to accept her.'
The wedding venue wasn't far from Logan International Airport. By the time I was settled in the first-class lounge, the ceremony hadn't even begun.
I watched the clock, waiting for the show to start.
Suddenly, a notification from Maya lit up my phone. It was a link to a live stream.
'OMG, Clara, he's actually doing it! The nerve of this guy, acting like it's some epic romance when he's just a common cheater. Shameless.'
The ceremony began. The music swelled. Graham walked to the altar, his face glowing with poorly concealed excitement. The officiant started the vows.
When asked if he would take me as his wife, Graham took a deep breath and declared, "I don't."
Gasps swept through the crowd.
He then turned to the guests and launched into his well-rehearsed, emotional speech, recounting the story of his lost love and reunion with his "one true love," Blair.
In the audience, Blair stood, tears glistening in her eyes, basking in the sea of shocked faces.
"Blair, will you come with me?" he called out.
The scene was pure scandal. Without a second's hesitation, Blair walked to the altar and took his hand.
"I will," she proclaimed.
The room erupted in whispers.
Graham, glowing with victory, wore a triumphant smirk. He turned toward the grand doors where I was supposed to make my entrance and began to deliver his final verdict on me.
"I know you love me deeply," he said, his voice dripping with condescension, "but the bond Blair and I share is unbreakable. Please, find it in your heart to understand and let us be happy."
He had probably rehearsed his condescending little speech for me a hundred times, ready to deliver it with smug satisfaction.
"Miss Clara Donovan?" he called out, bracing for the dramatic confrontation.
A heavy silence fell over the hall. The air grew thick with awkwardness.
When the other lead in your dramatic confrontation fails to appear, a "bold declaration of love" starts to look less like a romantic showdown and more like a one-man circus.
"Miss Donovan?"
"Miss Donovan?"
He called out again and again, but there was only silence.
Finally, a staff member walked to the magnificent doors and opened them. There was no bride. Only a veil, carelessly tossed on the floor.
The murmurs in the crowd grew louder.
"Don't tell me... the bride actually ran away?" someone whispered.
