Fleeing Perfection

Hearing those words didn’t just shatter her; she felt the sting of betrayal cut deep.

Her hands trembled as she backed away, tears blurring her vision, her heart pounded as though it might rip her chest apart.

Still dressed as a bride, Penelope ran through the hallway like a ghost, carrying a broken heart beneath layers of white silk. 

Trying to get as far away from them as possible, she ran to her apartment for her car keys, the elevator mirrors reflecting a bride who felt dead.

Strangers stared but she didn't seem to care, her heart racing faster than her thoughts. She got into her car and drove as fast as possible. Wanting to escape the thought of breathing the same air as them.

She thought of her wedding, but she couldn't go back. She didn't want to see anyone. She didn’t want to face anyone—especially Hillary and Geoffrey.

I can’t, she thought.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, and she never saw the car slowing ahead of her. The crash came suddenly—tires screeching, metal slamming into metal, her body jolting forward as the seatbelt snapped her back into place.

Penelope sat frozen, heart pounding so hard it hurt. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she looked around, disoriented. The air smelled like burnt rubber and dust. 

Her car had stalled in the middle of the road, the front end crumpled, smoke curling lazily from the hood.

She blinked, forcing herself to breathe.

Then the other car door opened.

A tall figure stepped out of the sleek black vehicle she had collided with. He scanned the damage briefly before his gaze lifted and locked onto her.

Concern flickered across his face as he walked toward her, his footsteps steady. He knocked gently on her window.

“Hey,” he said when she finally lowered it, his voice low and grounded. “Are you hurt?”

Penelope opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out. The weight of everything—betrayal, humiliation—crashed over her all at once. Tears spilled freely as her body began to shake.

The man’s expression softened instantly. “It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Just breathe. You’re safe now.”

“What way are you headed?” he asked softly, forcing himself to remain calm despite the inner storm raging within him.

Pen shook her head, she couldn't bring herself to say anything at the moment. She was in a mess.

“It’s alright. Let me take you,” he persisted. You can't drive and your car can't move an inch. The state is bad, he insisted.

Penelope remained silent, flashing images of Hillary and Geoffrey played in her mind, a reminder of her shattered world of perfection.

The man sighed, a hint of frustration in his voice. “Let me take you somewhere safe, or I'll leave you here, and the cops catch up with you. And I'm sure you don't want to deal with that.”

Penelope glanced up and the realization of what he said hit her. The cops are the last thing she needs right now.

“I'll go with you.” she yielded.

“Great,” he said. Gently, he opened the car and helped her out, hands shielding her shoulder and pulling her close to make her feel safe. Her bridal look had faded, and her bow trail was torn from running earlier.

Helped her to the passenger seat, as he instructed his driver to take care of her car and bring it along.

She picked a glance at him and realized how calm his expression was. He looks so good, she thought 

He was handsome in a rugged way, with dark hair across his face. When he turned to look at her she met sharp blue eyes filled with curiosity.

“If I may ask, ma'am, where are you going?” he asked.

“Anywhere, just take me anywhere, please,” she replied, voice barely above a whisper.

“He arched an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound specific,” he said, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

Biting her lips, like a rush of wind she muttered, “Your home.”

Surprised by what had just left her lips, she froze.

The man's smile disappeared, replaced by a look of utter bewilderment. My home? he echoed.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“Anywhere you're going is fine, take me with you.” she insisted.

He seemed so uncertain, but left with no choice. He drove to his hotel with so many questions on his mind. 

The ride was slow and mostly silent as Pen sniffled, looking out of the window with racing thoughts in her mind.

They pulled up to a deluxe hotel, he turned and asked, “Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?” His voice was wrapped with concern.

Penelope shook her head. Tears finally dried up.

The man hesitated but couldn't contend it, he sighed and said, 

“Look, I don't know what's going on but if you need anything or you want to clear up your mind, you can talk to me, I'm right here to listen.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, lifting her hands and helping her out of the car. He led her to his suite, leaving his driver to fix the cars.

In the suite, he helped her find a comfortable place on the couch and brought her a glass of water.

“Please can you get me normal clothes I need to change from this into something more simple,” Penelope asked gently.

“Sure, I can do that, someone will be here in a minute,” he replied. 

Picking up his phone and calling someone to get a simple female dress and bring it to his suite. 

What happened? Why were you crying he asked gently.

Penelope couldn't bring herself to tell him what happened, feeling too embarrassed, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. 

Sensing that she didn't want to talk, he rose up and told her, “I think you might want to freshen up, your makeup doesn't look good anymore.”

“I'll put your clothes on the bed, you can change in the bedroom. I'll give you some time alone.”

A few minutes later, he was surprised to see her in front of him with just the towel on her skin.

“What's going on? Do you need anything? he asked.

“Have sex with me, I want you in me,” she stated bluntly.