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Chapter 4

Author: Sixteen Strokes
I gathered up the voluminous gown and made my way toward the bridal suite, one slow step at a time. By the time I got there, a long while had passed.

I could have left without another word.

But if I was going to run away from the wedding, how could I not take the makeup artist with me?

When I finally pushed open the door, out of breath, I froze at the scene before me.

The renowned makeup artist, whom I'd booked two years in advance, was being lectured by Grayson like a schoolkid. She looked close to tears.

“Good, you're here.”

Grayson dumped a pile of cosmetics in front of me.

“Iris said you were trying to pull something on her. You used luxury products on yourself and cheap, unbranded stuff on her.”

I frowned. What was this about now?

Iris wiped at the corner of her eye and, for some reason, apologized to me.

“I'm sorry, Charlotte. I shouldn't have come and stolen your spotlight. I didn't think it through.

“I'll let you have your makeup done first. I can even go bare-faced if I have to!”

I let out a cold laugh.

“I never said anything like that to my makeup artist, and I would never do something like that!”

Grayson didn't believe me. He was convinced I was trying to get back at Iris.

“Charlotte, this little act you're putting on is pathetic. You think this is going to make me come comfort you?”

I shook my head as I said, “I never asked you to.”

“What is with that attitude? Just because I bought Iris some bubble tea and cake, you're going to get revenge like this? You made her cry for ages. You owe her an apology.”

“Why should I apologize for something I didn't do?”

Grayson ran a frustrated hand through his hair and walked over to me, gripping my shoulders. His grip was so tight it hurt.

“I don't have time for this nonsense. The wedding starts in thirty minutes. Apologize now, or I'm not walking down that aisle.”

I smiled, and for the first time, I truly meant it. Grayson still thought he could threaten me, but I didn't care anymore.

“Okay.”

My indifferent response completely infuriated him. Just as he was about to lose his temper, Iris quickly stepped in.

“Grayson, don't do this. It's your wedding day.”

“If anyone's at fault, it's me. You should go and greet the guests. Leave the rest to me.”

Grayson paused, then nodded. Before he left, though, he gave me a disappointed look.

“See? You're never as sensible as Iris.”

After Grayson left, I walked over to the makeup artist and quietly said a few words. She immediately began packing her things.

Iris assumed we were going to another room for my makeup. With a grand wave of her hand, she generously said, “Forget it. I'm not going to hold it against you. Do her makeup first.”

The makeup artist just shook her head.

Thirty minutes later, the ballroom was dazzling and full of excited guests.

The officiant went through the program and delivered a long introduction. Then, looking toward the closed doors with excitement, he spoke the words everyone had been anticipating.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise and welcome the beautiful bride!

“Three—”

Under the spotlight, Grayson nervously rubbed his hands together.

“Two—”

A bead of sweat slid down his face as memories of all our happiest moments flashed through his mind.

“One.”

The doors opened, but there was no one there.

The officiant was dumbfounded. He tapped Grayson on the shoulder. His voice trembled as he asked, “Where's the bride?”

Grayson turned around. There was no one outside the doors.

In that instant, panic finally took hold of him.

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