Chapter 1

The night before my wedding, my fiancé Nathan Henson threw me out of the fifty-million-dollar bridal suite and sent me off to the shabbiest motel in the area.

I was lying on the bed, scrolling, when I came across a post from Millie Gilbert, the woman Nathan called one of the guys. A selfie of her in a racy nightgown, in bed.

The background was the bridal suite I had designed. The caption read: Today I'm the bridal-suite tester. New experience unlocked~

My hands shook. I called Nathan ninety-nine times. No one picked up.

I didn't sleep all night. At four in the morning the makeup artist kicked the door open, cursing, "You messing with me? Who gets married and books a dump like this!"

My mother called at the same moment. "We're already at the bridal suite, so where are you? You were the one who insisted on getting married, and now you pull a runaway-bride stunt?"

I looked at the chaos in front of me and had no idea how to explain any of it.

Nathan called then too. "Millie's a bridal-suite tester. She wanted to try the suite out, and since we're getting married anyway, I just helped her hit a work quota. Don't be upset. She'll be at the wedding. She's a little sensitive, so don't give her any attitude."

"The two of us are heading to the wedding now. Just grab a cab and come over yourself."

Tears ran down my face. When I said nothing, Nathan didn't wait either. He hung up.

I gripped the phone, my chest tightening, and closed my eyes for a moment.

Ever since Millie showed up, Nathan had waited on her like hired help. Let her try on the wedding dress first. Let her pick the venue.

And now even the bridal suite. He let her sleep in it the first night.

The makeup artist stood where she was, and said awkwardly, "Do you... do you still want the makeup done?"

I lifted my eyes and smiled. "Yes. But I'm switching grooms."

...

The powder puff slipped from her hand and hit the floor with a soft clap, rolling twice. She opened her mouth, closed it, and finally managed, "Miss, what did you just say?"

I didn't repeat it. I just pressed the phone screen dark and shoved it under the pillow.

"Do it. When you're done, I'm going to the funeral home," I said. "Make it pretty."

She hesitated, then bent to pick up the puff, wiped it with a tissue, and leaned in toward my face.

I closed my eyes and heard her mutter under her breath, "This foundation's gone all clumpy, and the light in here is terrible..." But her hands didn't stop. Twenty-five minutes. She stepped back, studied me for a moment, and said quietly, "Done."

I opened my eyes.

The woman in the mirror wore last night's wrinkled satin robe, but her face was flawless, finished, perfect.

"Thank you."

I pulled the robe tighter, walked to the door, and looked back at her. "The deposit's three hundred. Check me out of the room, would you?"

I ordered a rideshare. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror and said nothing, probably assuming I was some girl coming off a shift at a club.

I gave him the funeral home's address, and his foot noticeably eased off the gas.

"They've got... business over there this early?" he asked carefully.

"Yes," I said. "I've got a nine o'clock appointment."

He didn't ask anything more, just quietly turned up the heat. I leaned against the window and watched the streetlights slide past one by one. My phone buzzed in my pocket again. This time it was Nathan.

I answered.

"You still at the motel?" His voice was rough with sleep. In the background, Millie's laugh chimed like a little bell, far off, something like, "Who's calling this early?"

Nathan lowered his voice. "Millie's picking the bouquet. Do you like lilies or roses? She says roses are tacky. Lilies, then?"

"Lilies," I said.

"Fine, lilies it is." He sounded relieved. "Did you order a car? Want me to send the driver back for you? Though the ceremony's about to start..."

"No need," I said. "I'll get there myself."

He went quiet for a couple of seconds, probably not expecting me to be this calm.

Millie called out to him again, her voice sweet to the point of cloying, "Nathan, isn't this lisianthus pretty?" He answered her in a hurry, then spoke fast into the phone. "Then move quick, don't miss the good hour. Oh, right, Millie says she wants to sit at the head table, so when you get here you'll—"

"That's fine," I said.

He froze.

"I said it's fine." I repeated it, my tone as steady as if I were reading off a menu. "She can sit at the head table. She can sit right next to me, for all I care."

There was a silence on his end, and then Nathan's voice turned hesitant. "...Why are you being so agreeable today?"

I didn't answer, because the iron gates of the funeral home had already come into view.

I had the driver stop at the curb, paid, and pushed the door open.

Cold air folded around me, carrying the smell of burnt paper and chrysanthemums.

The phone was still at my ear. Nathan was still going. "Hello? You there? Call me when you arrive, I'll have the makeup artist wait for you at the door—"

"No need," I said, stepping up onto the stairs in front of the funeral home as the iron gates creaked open before me. "I've already got my makeup done."

"Oh, good. Right, Millie says—"

I hung up.

The funeral home's reception hall was very quiet.

The attendant on duty was a young man in glasses, flipping through a registry. He looked up, saw me, and paused, probably having never seen anyone show up to a place like this in bridal shoes and full makeup.

"Hello," he said, standing, professionally swallowing his surprise. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No. But I wanted to ask. If I add a wedding on short notice, how soon can it be done?"

He blinked. "...A wedding?"

"Yes." I smiled and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "A wedding. Use the farewell hall for the venue, nothing big, seating for thirty is enough. White chrysanthemums for the flowers, the piano version of Canon for the music. I'll officiate myself."

The attendant stood there with his mouth open, and it took him a long moment to find his voice. "You... you want to get married here?"

"Mm."

I glanced down at my phone. Nathan had called twice more. I didn't answer. A new post from Millie popped up on my feed, nine photos in a grid, the one in the center of her in my wedding dress, spinning in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bridal suite. The caption: My best friend's wedding dress is way too gorgeous, so I'm trying it on for her today. See you at the wedding~

I let out a soft laugh and turned the phone face-down on the counter.

"Sorry to trouble you," I said to the attendant, my voice low but strangely clear. "I think I'm going to need a groom. Do you have... one available here?"