Chapter 1

For my wedding day, I put on a three-million-dollar couture gown set with ninety thousand crystals.

The train alone ran five meters long and weighed fifty pounds. It took ten bridesmaids just to hold it up.

But the Rolls-Royce motorcade that was supposed to arrive at seven o'clock sharp was nowhere in sight.

On the phone, my groom William Delgado's voice carried an urgency he couldn't hide.

"Cara Fox twisted her ankle coming down the airport steps. She's been crying nonstop from the pain, so I sent the motorcade to take her to the hospital."

On the other end, Cara sniffled, all pitiful and small.

"Will, I'm going to make your bride miss the lucky hour. Let me just call an ambulance myself."

William rushed to soothe her. "How can I let you do that? An ambulance doesn't ride nearly as smooth as my Rolls-Royce."

Before I could get a word in, he barreled straight into the next arrangement.

"Just grab the bridesmaids and take the subway over. It's only a dozen or so stops, two transfers and you're here."

I took a deep breath, and the laugh that came out of me was pure disbelief.

"You want me in a fifty-pound wedding gown, dragging ten bridesmaids in long-train dresses, to squeeze onto a subway with the morning rush crowd?"

William blew up on the spot, shouting at me down the line.

"Cara's hurt. Can you not be so selfish for once?"

Listening to him lecture me like he had every right to, I lowered my head and dialed the number I'd sealed away for three years.

"You once said you'd send nine helicopters to carry me off on my wedding day. Does that still stand?"

...

The moment the call cut off, the air seemed to drain out of the whole dressing room.

The ten bridesmaids stood in a row, not daring to breathe.

I looked down at the gown on my body.

Three-million-dollar couture. Ninety thousand Swarovski crystals. Eight months of handwork.

The train alone was five meters, enough to cover half the room when it spread out.

Fifty pounds of it pressed down on my shoulders, and the sweat down my back had long since soaked through the lining.

July heat, three air conditioners running in the room, and I was still dizzy from it.

But I hadn't dared to move a single step.

Because the stylist had told me the crystals on this skirt were laid out to match a star chart. Shift an inch out of place and the curve of the train would be ruined.

So I'd started my makeup at four in the morning, and I'd been standing for three hours since, not daring to drink more than a sip of water.

All so I could be the most perfect bride, once, in front of William.

And he'd driven my wedding car off to fetch another woman.

My phone screen lit up.

Messages from the wedding coordinator kept popping up, one after another.

【Miss Swanson, the motorcade didn't arrive at seven. The hotel is asking whether we should adjust the entrance time.】

【The floral arch is already up, but the white roses will last until nine at the most. Any later and the petals start to droop.】

【The band and the emcee are on standby. The five hundred guests have started taking their seats.】

Five hundred guests.

My mother had spent two months arranging the seating, table by table, calling each person to confirm.

My father had hauled out every bottle of top-shelf whiskey he'd been saving, two per table, a hundred bottles in all.

My best friend Antonia Walker, one of today's bridesmaids, was the first to speak. "Elisa Swanson, should we... try calling one more time?"

I called back.

Four rings before he picked up. Loud background noise.

"Where are you?"

"Still on the way to the hospital."

I gripped the phone tighter.

"William, your wedding car leaves at seven forty-eight and the entrance is at eight twenty-eight. It's already seven eleven."

"I know that! Which is exactly why I told you to take the subway over first!"

"Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be? It's just the subway. Line fourteen to line six to line four, I already looked it up for you. Forty minutes at the most."

Right on cue, Cara's voice came through on the other end.

"Will, don't worry about me, go pick up your bride... I can tough it out, really..."

Then a small sob, timed to perfection.

William instantly went soft. "Stop talking. Your ankle's swollen like that and you're still putting on a brave face."

Then his tone flipped as he turned it on me.

"That's enough. Get out the door now, quit stalling at home. I'll meet you at the hotel."

"William, you want me in a fifty-pound couture gown, with ten bridesmaids, squeezing onto the subway at rush hour?"

"Just take the gown off and change into something casual. Put it back on at the hotel. It's a three-million-dollar dress. You really planned to sit on the subway in it?"

He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Like I was the unreasonable one.

I said nothing.

He must have taken my silence for agreement, because his voice eased.

"Be good, get going now, don't miss the lucky hour." Then he hung up.

Antonia stood beside me, her face gone dark.

"He told you to take off your gown?"

I didn't answer. I looked toward the door.

My mother was standing there against the frame.

She wore a newly tailored qipao, her hair pinned into perfect order, the jade earrings my grandmother left her at her ears.

The smile was still on her face.

But her eyes had already changed.

"Where's the motorcade?"

"He drove it off to pick up Cara."

My mother's smile crumbled, piece by piece.

"How does he expect you to get there?"

"The subway, three transfers. He told me to take off my gown first."