The Day I Stopped Waiting
On the morning of my wedding, I found a saved voice message on Elliot Mercer's phone.
It was only four seconds long, barely long enough to matter, yet the girl's voice filled the bridal suite as if she had stepped into the room herself.
"I miss you, Elliot. I know I shouldn't."
The makeup artist had just finished pinning the last pearl into my hair. My dress was zipped, my veil was hanging over the back of a chair, and downstairs, two hundred guests were waiting for me to marry the man I had loved for seven years.
Elliot stood behind me in the mirror, already dressed in his black tuxedo.
"She was drunk," he said. "It happened after the firm retreat. Someone dared her to send it."
I checked t