Chapter 1

Halfway through our wedding rehearsal, Ethan sent me a text on Snapchat.

"I can’t make it. Chloe’s lightbulb broke. She’s terrified of the dark and she’s crying alone."

I gritted my teeth and typed back: "You’re skipping the rehearsal? What about the actual wedding tomorrow?"

It was loud on his end, sounding like a busy shopping mall.

"We’ll see. Chloe hasn’t been doing well lately. Just bear with it, okay?"

"I mean, you’ve always been able to handle things on your own anyway, right?"

He hung up right after.

I wiped my tears and dialed another number.

"Cole."

"Does your proposal from years ago still count?"

The man's voice was deep and low. "Send me your location."

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"The groom isn't coming. Are we still running this?"

The coordinator put the microphone on the table, looking at me with pity.

I clutched my phone. The location had been sent three minutes ago. Marked as read.

The florist couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the lighting technician and headed backstage. "Let's take a break. Wait for the bride's call."

The bride. I was the only one standing on the red carpet. The cold air from the vents chilled me to the bone.

My phone lit up. Chloe’s Snapchat profile picture was a pink bunny. Her display name was "Ethan's Chloe."

"Sweetie~ Ethan said you can handle it all by yourself. You're so amazing! Unlike me, I’d literally cry if I had to spend my birthday alone 🥺"

I stared at that emoji for five seconds. Then I shut off the screen.

Out of the corner of my eye, the florist was untying the ribbon on the bouquet, whispering to someone next to her, "Is the groom coming or not?"

"Shh—don't ask."

Every word stabbed right into my ears.

Twenty-seven minutes later, the heavy doors of the ballroom were pushed open.

It wasn't Ethan.

Cole was wearing a black hoodie, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He held a motorcycle helmet in his right hand. His heavy boots made a deep, solid sound on the marble floor.

He swept his eyes over the room, paused for two seconds on the empty space at the end of the red carpet, and then looked at me.

"Where do I stand?"

The coordinator was the first to react. "This is..."

"He’s standing in," my voice was steadier than anyone who had just been stood up had any right to be. "The groom has an emergency."

Cole didn't wait for directions. He walked up and stood next to me. He was a whole size broader than Ethan, standing beneath the floral arch like an immovable oak.

The music started again. I gripped the bouquet and took a step forward.

The moment I stepped in front of him, he tilted his head down.

"Have you been crying?"

His voice was so low that the coordinator standing three feet away couldn't hear a thing.

"No."

"The tip of your nose is red."

I turned my face away, refusing to let him look.

We went through the motions for forty minutes. He didn't ask a single question. When the coordinator told him to hand over the flowers, he did. When told to turn, he turned. During the ring exchange, he stretched out his hand. His palm was rough, with an old scar running across his knuckle.

A young stagehand girl peeking from backstage whispered to her coworker, "Damn, this stand-in is holding down the fort so well..."

After the rehearsal, as I was signing the final paperwork, Ethan’s voice message came through right on cue. Fifty-four seconds.

"Rehearsal done? You’ve had a hard day, babe. Chloe just blew out her candles. She’s feeling much better. I even made a wish for you—"

In the background, Chloe’s voice sounded soft and clingy.

"Ethan, don't move! I want to take a picture of you cutting the cake."

The message ended.

My pen stopped on the paper, dragging out a long, messy line on the signature page.

I didn't notice Cole walking up to me. He didn't look down at my tear-stained face. He just pulled a tissue from the box on the table and set it by my right hand.

He didn't force it on me. He just left it there.

It was like he knew that if he handed it to me directly, my walls would completely crumble.

Walking out of the venue, I stopped on the steps. He mounted his black motorcycle and buckled his helmet.

"I'll give you a ride."

"I drove here."

He didn't leave, and he didn't rush me.

The night wind blew for a long time, turning colder by the minute.

I looked at him. "Cole, what you said back then... does it still count?"

He took off his helmet and looked straight into my eyes.

"Ava, when have I ever gone back on my word?"

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