Chapter 3 - A rude awakening

Araceli barely slept the night before her ‘big day’

She lay awake in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, excitement bubbling inside her chest. Today was her wedding day. The day she’d dreamed of.

It wasn’t much like her dreams thought, in her dreams, a carriage would be waiting outside and a dozen maidens would be helping her prepare but none of that mattered. As long as she got to stand beside Nico, as long as he finally saw her, truly saw her, it would all be worth it.

When the first rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, she jumped out of bed, smoothing down the wrinkles in her only white dress. It wasn’t much, but it would do. She slipped on her shoes, fastened her necklace around her throat, and ran her fingers through her wavy black hair, doing her best to tame it with what little she had.

By the time she was ready, she expected to hear movement in the house—perhaps Nico getting dressed, preparing for the ceremony. But the house was silent.

She peeked into his room and saw that it was empty. Frowning, she checked the rest of the house, her heart hammering slightly. Where is he?

Then, realization struck.

Of course. The groom always arrives at the chapel first.

Smiling to herself, she stepped outside, expecting to see a car waiting to take her but there was nothing. The street was empty, the morning air crisp and cool.

She hesitated, her fingers tightening around her necklace.

Maybe he forgot to send a car?

But it didn’t matter. She knew where the chapel was. There were only two in town—Ambrose’s church and the other one, the one where the wedding was taking place. It was a long walk, but she didn’t mind.

Nothing worth having comes easy, she reminded herself as she started down the dirt road.

The walk was harder than she expected.

The sun grew hotter as the morning stretched on, and each step seemed heavier than the last. Her breaths came quicker, her legs ached, but she pressed forward. She had to. She was getting married today.

She paused to rest a few times, pressing a hand against her chest, her heartbeat frantic. A part of her worried she would be late, that she would arrive after the ceremony had already begun.

But he wouldn’t start without me, she reassured herself. He’s waiting for me.

With newfound determination, she kept walking, ignoring the dizziness creeping up her spine.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the chapel came into view and her heart almost leaped out of her chest with excitement.

She smoothed down her dress for what felt like the thousandth time, took a steadying breath, and pushed open the heavy doors.

The moment she stepped inside, her world shattered.

There was no grand wedding. No beautiful music, and only a few guests waiting to celebrate the union.

But there was a bride standing at the altar and it certainly wasn’t her.

Nico stood at the altar, his arm wrapped around another woman. The lady was a vision of effortless elegance, straight out of a magazine. She had long, golden curls cascading down her back, piercing green eyes, and a designer gown that fit her like a second skin, perfectly tailored to her curves.

Araceli felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Her vision blurred, her hands trembling violently at her sides.

Her poor heart, which had already been through immense stress with her trek all the way to the church, broke into a million pieces.

Nico turned, his relaxed expression twisting into a scowl. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Araceli stepped forward, her voice shaking. “This… this is supposed to be our wedding.”

A sharp, cruel laugh rang through the chapel. The blonde woman—Vivienne—tilted her head back, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh my God, Nico. Is this some kind of joke? Did you actually hire this clown to entertain us?”

The few guests in the chapel murmured, casting judgmental stares at the girl in the rumpled dress standing at the entrance.

Nico pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. “This is just a misunderstanding.”

Araceli’s heart clenched. “A misunderstanding?” Her voice cracked. “I don’t understand. You said it…it was our wedding today” she choked between sobs “You—”

Nico cut her off with a sharp glare. “Jesus, are you really that dumb?”

A stunned silence filled the chapel.

She flinched, her hands tightening around her dress. “But you said yesterday that…”

“I was joking,” he spat. “Do you not know what sarcasm is?”

Vivienne scoffed. “Alright, for real, Nico. Who the hell is this?” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “She looks like some pathetic little church rat that wandered in from the street.”

Nico didn’t hesitate. He shrugged and said, “That’s exactly what she is. Just some stupid church rat.”

The words cut deeper than any knife. Her prince was dragging a dagger repeatedly through her chest and she didn’t know how much more she could take.

Araceli’s lips parted, disbelief flooding through her. “Nico…”

“Don’t you dare call me by my name,” he snapped, his eyes burning with irritation. “You’re not even worth that.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. In a flash Nico stormed toward her and dragged her to a quiet corner of the chapel “You’re nothing more than an unpaid maid,” he continued coldly. “Now go to my house, pack your things, and go back to Ambrose. Tell him I don’t want you. Tell him you weren’t a good fuck and that you can’t even clean for shit.”

A choked sound escaped her lips. His every venomous word sawed at her innocent fantasies.

Vivienne came to join in on the humiliation smirking, as she leaned against Nico’s side as if she had already won. “Run along now, little church girl. This is what happens when you mistake reality for fairytales.”

Araceli turned on her heel and ran like her life depended on it. She wasn’t supposed to run this fast but she couldn’t care less about that right now. She just wanted to flee, to run fast enough that she might run into a different reality where none of this humiliation ever happened. Was this also part of God’s plan? she wondered.

The entire run back was a blur.

She didn’t know how she made it, only that every step felt heavier, every breath harder. Her mind raced, her thoughts spiraling in a thousand different directions.

God, why? Why would You do this to me?

She had believed.

She had trusted.

Had she done something wrong? Had she failed some unseen test?

She reached Nico’s house in record time, still gasping for air, still fighting back tears. She packed her few belongings in a frenzy, stuffing them into her small bag with shaking hands.

And then she left. She went to Ambrose’s house, even though deep down, she already knew he was gone she hoped he’d be there waiting to comfort her like a father would to his daughter who’d just experienced the worst heartbreak.

She knocked and knocked, pounding on the door, but there was no answer.

“Father Ambrose?” she called out, her voice trembling. But was only met with mocking silence.

She went to Ms. Maggie’s house next, but she too wasn’t around so she borrowed another neighbor’s phone, and called Ambrose’s number.

This number is no longer in service.

Her stomach twisted painfully.

He really was gone and she was completely and utterly alone.

So she continued to walk. She didn’t know where she was going, didn’t know what she was searching for. The streets blurred together, her vision swimming, her breaths growing shallower and shallower.

The weight of the betrayal, the heartbreak, the exhaustion—it all pressed down on her like a crushing force.

She walked until she couldn’t anymore.

Until her knees buckled.

Until she collapsed.

And then darkness took over.