Chapter 2

Lana’s POV

My satin gown swept the floor each step that I took.

I reminded myself to breathe. In. Out. Smile. Just as the planner had taught me.

Everyone was looking at me.

Guests in ranks, dressed in glossy gowns, shining shoes, and fake smiles.

Dazzling gold chandeliers above, lighting delicate halos around the faces of the ones who had come to see the perfect wedding of Derek Collin and Lana Roth.

Perfect.

That word, like a pressure on my ribs.

I had my hands firmly closed around the bouquet. My palms were sweaty, but I wasn't about to wipe them on my dress. The lilies trembled slightly, betraying me.

The voice of my mother drifted in from near the front. "Head held high, sweetheart. Smile."

So I did. My mouth stretched wide, but my jaw trembled beneath it. I prayed no one would notice.

The music faded out. The crowd fell silent. And still, no Derek.

Rumors started to spread among the guests. I could sense something was wrong, air growing heavy, people glancing at one another, excited faces turning into frowns. My father spoke in whispers with Derek's father.

Where was he?

My blood pounded through my veins. I looked in the direction of the altar again. Empty.

A chill crept up my arms, gooseflesh flaring up under the lace sleeves.

Then, suddenly, the lights dimmed.

The projector hummed to life.

Surprise crossed the faces of the guests. Someone whispered behind me. I turned slightly, the bouquet tilting as a video began to show on the massive screen over the altar.

It was Derek.

I caught my breath. He was in his car, wearing the same tuxedo I had seen him pick up yesterday. But his eyes….not beaming with ove. More frozen.

"Lana Roth," he said, his voice smooth, half-smiling. "My beautiful bride."

The crowd tittered nervously, unaware. My heart fluttered.

He smiled, that same half-smile that had once, long ago, turned me into jelly. Only this time it twisted something deep inside of me.

"I imagine you are all wondering where I am," he said. "Let's just say… I woke up."

I could only hear the pounding of my heart inside my head. I barely heard the gasps.

He edged closer into the camera. "Because no one wants to marry a fat, spoiled joke of a bride. So fake that she can't even bend down to pick up things and what about the disgusting smell that follows her around. Eww. I bet some of us don't talk because we want favors from her families but that smell with her fat face made even the ambition for the money all go away "

The world stopped.

Laughs…. cold, cruel, rippled through parts of the crowd. Others drew in shocked gasps. Someone knocked over their drink.

My jaw opened, but nothing came out. My eyes became foggy for an instant, it then felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room.

He wasn't finished.

"Lana's the kind of woman only money could stand," Derek continued, voice dripping with contempt. "Without her daddy's money, she's nothing. Not even her mirror image would love her."

There was a quiet sob in the back of the room.

I knew it was mine.

The bouquet slipped from my grasp and fell onto the floor with a muffled thud. Petals drifted away. I stood and looked at them, white lilies bruised against the marble

I felt hundreds of eyes on me. My throat tightened, but my body wouldn't move.

Someone whispered, "Oh my God."

Someone else said "Is this real?"

My mother's hand reached for mine, trembling. "Lana….honey"

I stepped back.

Her hand was too heavy. The air too heavy. My chest tightened until I couldn't breathe.

I took one step, the hem of my gown snagging at my ankles. My heels scraped against the floor as I spun and ran.

The doors in front, high, gold, endless. I burst through them, the noise of the crowd bowling after me, gasps, murmurs, shutters of cameras.

The hallway was cooler. My veil tore on the handle as I pushed out of the hallway, and for a moment, the piece clung to my face, sweaty and tear-stained. I pulled it away and cast it aside.

As I stepped out onto the marble stairs, my eyes were misting. The sun in the afternoon broke through the clouds, fiercely bright. My mascara streamed in black rivers down my face.

I could taste salt. And shame.

There were photographers outside, hungry, waiting. The camera clicks were like firing guns behind me.

"Lana! Miss Roth!"

"Is there truth in him—?"

"Lana, look here!"

I couldn't. I couldn't look anywhere. My body acted on impulse, clutching the hem of my gown as I ran down the stairs, the lace tearing at my ankles.

My hair, once so tidily pinned back, had begun to slide down in loose strands that stuck to my wet cheeks. I breathed, my chest rising and falling, and each breath caught, rasping against the hurt in my chest.

I reached the car, and my driver opened the door, his hands shaking. "Miss Roth…"

"Drive," I croaked, voice breaking. "Just go. Please." I pleaded.

He didn't ask where. He didn't need to.

The door slammed shut, and the city outside the frosted windows disintegrated, towering skyscrapers, questioning faces, neon lights.

I pressed my hands to my face, but it didn't stop the shaking. My shoulders shook, tiny, jagged motions as if my body was trying to shake off what my heart could not hold.

The silence in the car was crushing. Each breath was too loud. Each thought, too cruel.

Fat. Spoiled. Joke.

The sounds of his words echoed back over themselves until they sounded nothing like his voice, they sounded like mine.

By the time I got home, I had no memory of going up the stairs. I tore the veil from my head, yanked off the heavy earrings, the shoes, the corset. The dress, that perfect, wonderful, expensive dress slumped to my feet as if it couldn't bear to support me anymore.

I leaned against the mirror, chest heaving and falling, eyes puffy red.

I took a look at the mirror and I did not recognize the woman staring back at me.

Mascara was smeared down her cheeks in uneven strips. Her lips trembled, smudged pink on white. Her shoulders caved in, shaking and bare.

My hands pressed on the vanity, knuckles white. "You let him do this," I whispered to my reflection in the mirror.

Tears dripped again, this time time…hot

I slid to the ground, the tiles icy against my legs. I hugged my knees, rocking back and forth, as I used to when I was a scared child.

The phone vibrated, messages, notifications, headlines.

"Runaway bride humiliated."

"Roth heiress abandoned at altar."

Each word cut deep.

I turned the phone off and stared at the darkness of the screen

My breath came out in shudders.

He'd bared me, bared in front of the world. Taunted my body, my worth, my name.

I lifted my head slowly, smearing the streaks on my face. My fingers smeared the mascara all over my face, but that was okay.

The mirror flashed in front of me once more. And this time, I didn't look away.

"I'll change," I whispered, throat rough. "Everything."