Chapter 5 - Sanctuary in White
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I turned toward the hallway leading to the bridal suite, stepping carefully over the train of my dress.
Derek’s hand immediately shot out, catching my upper arm before I could take three steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his tone dropping its public sweetness.
“To clean my face, Derek,” I said calmly, looking down at his fingers on my arm.
“We’re doing speeches right now. Sit back down.”
“You can start without me. I have blood on my dress.”
His fake smile vanished completely, replaced by the dark, furious mask I had come to fear over the past year.
“Claire,” he growled through gritted teeth, tightening his grip until my skin pinched against my collarbone.
“Don’t start embarrassing me on my wedding day.”
Several nearby guests at table two glanced over, their eyes widening at the clear aggression in his posture.
Perfect. Let them see.
“Take your hand off me, Derek,” I said, keeping my voice level and perfectly clear.
Before he could respond, his father, Richard Hayes, approached holding a glass of scotch. Richard took a long sip, looking between the two of us with mild amusement.
“Everything okay over here, son?” Richard asked smoothly.
Derek released my arm instantly, stepping back and smoothing his tuxedo jacket with a casual laugh.
“She’s just being emotional, Dad. You know how women get with wedding stress.”
Richard chuckled, clapping Derek on the shoulder.
“Ah, wedding nerves. Go powder your nose, sweetheart. Don't take too long.”
I walked into the bridal suite and slammed the heavy oak door shut, turning the lock with a sharp click.
Lena was already inside, having slipped through the service pantry.
“God, Claire, you’re bleeding,” Lena whispered, rushing over with a stack of damp towels.
“I know,” I said, taking a towel and wiping the red-tinted frosting from my nose and cheekbone.
“We can leave right now,” Lena urged, her hands trembling as she pulled out her laptop.
“My car is parked by the kitchen loading dock. The engine is running.”
May you like
“Not yet,” I told her quietly, looking at my reflection in the vanity mirror.
“If we run now, he turns this into a domestic dispute and spins the narrative. I need them to believe I’m coming back out.”
