Chapter 7 - The Unraveling Walk
1:50 PM. Ten minutes before the ceremony.
I stood behind the double oak doors at the back of the grand chapel aisle, fully dressed in my floor-length ivory lace wedding gown, my long veil falling over my face. In my right hand, I held a massive bouquet of white gardenias. My left hand rested empty at my side.
I had deliberately left my white cane in the dressing room. I had left my dark sunglasses behind.
Behind me, my father stepped into the vestibule, taking his position beside me to walk me down the aisle. He looked at my face beneath the veil, frowning slightly when he noticed the absence of my dark glasses.
"Where are your sunglasses, Emily?" my father whispered harshly, taking my arm with a firm, controlling grip. "I told you to wear them! The press cameras are live right now!"
"I don't need them today, Dad," I replied softly behind my veil.
"Don't be ridiculous! Your eyes look unfocused without them!" he spat, trying to reach into his pocket. "Take mine—"
Before he could force his glasses onto my face, the heavy brass trumpets sounded from the balcony above. The grand organ burst into the majestic opening chords of the bridal march.
The heavy double doors swept open.
The grand chapel was a breathtaking spectacle of obscene wealth. Four hundred high-society guests stood up in unison, turning their heads toward the entrance. Dozens of professional media cameras flashed continuously, lighting up the aisle with blinding white light.
At the far end of the sixty-foot red carpet stood Ethan Carter, looking regal and commanding in his bespoke white tuxedo. Beside him stood Rachel Bennett, holding her bouquet of yellow roses, her face flushed with gloating pride.
My father tightened his grip on my elbow, guiding me forward. "Keep your head down, step slowly, and follow my lead," he muttered under his breath, acting the part of the devoted, guiding father.
I walked down the red carpet. Step by step.
I didn't stagger. I didn't hesitate. I didn't reach out with an uncertain hand. My posture was perfectly erect, my head held high, my gaze locked directly onto Ethan’s face at the end of the aisle.
As we reached the halfway point of the aisle, Ethan’s smile began to flicker. He looked at my eyes through the sheer tulle of my veil. He saw that my pupils were tracking his movements with absolute, razor-sharp precision. He saw that I was looking dead into his eyes—not above his head, not past his shoulders, but straight into his soul.
A sudden, faint flicker of unease crossed Ethan’s face. He shifted his weight nervously on the altar steps.
Beside him, Rachel noticed my firm, confident stride. Her eyes narrowed in sudden, paranoid suspicion. She leaned forward, staring intently at my face through the veil, her knuckles turning white around her rose stems.
We reached the base of the altar steps.
My father stopped, preparing to perform the traditional hand-off. He took my hand and attempted to place it into Ethan’s waiting palm.
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" the archbishop intoned smoothly from the pulpit.
"I do," my father announced proudly, his voice ringing across the sanctuary. "Her mother and I give her freely."
Ethan extended his hand to take mine, offering a warm, loving smile for the surrounding television cameras. "I take her with all my heart," Ethan declared softly.
I pulled my hand back.
I did not place my fingers in Ethan’s palm. I stepped backward, away from my father, away from Ethan, standing alone in the center of the altar space.
The chapel fell into a sudden, stunned silence. The organist froze, the music dying mid-note in a bizarre, discordant whine.
"Emily?" my father whispered, his voice laced with immediate, furious warning as he glared at me. "What are you doing?! Grab his hand!"
"Emily, darling?" Ethan said, taking a step down from the altar steps, extending his hand again with a strained, nervous laugh for the crowd. "Are you disoriented? It's okay... I'm right here. Just reach out for my voice."
I reached up with both hands.
Slowly, deliberately, I unpinned my bridal veil and threw it back over my shoulders, exposing my face to the entire chapel, to the four hundred guests, and to the live television cameras.
My eyes were clear, dark brown, and burning with absolute, terrifying clarity.
May you like
I stared dead into Ethan’s eyes.
"I don't need your voice to find you, Ethan," I said, my voice ringing out through the crystal-clear acoustics of the sanctuary like a thunderclap. "Because I can see every single disgustingly rotten inch of your face."
