Chapter 2
Ethan stood frozen in the center of the sunlit sanctuary, the pristine white rose on his lapel suddenly feeling like a mockery of everything he believed in. The organ music ground to an agonizing, discordant halt as the organist peered down from the loft, sensing the sudden seismic shift in the atmosphere. Ethan’s mind raced through a violent labyrinth of logistical impossibilities. Sarah had been living three hours away in the city for the past six months, working a demanding corporate fellowship, ostensibly preparing for a wedding that was scheduled to happen forty-eight minutes from now. They had spoken every single night before bed. She had never mentioned a pregnancy. She had never looked heavy or tired on their weekend video calls. Yet the metallic hum of the hospital room and the cold, unyielding certainty in her voice could not be faked.
"Ethan? Brother, what is happening?" Michael asked, stepping out from the vestry doors in his matching groomsman tuxedo, holding a clipboard of final schedule notes. "The photographer is outside, and guests are starting to park in the lower lot. We need to line up in five minutes."
Ethan did not turn around. His gaze remained locked onto the blank screen of his smartphone, his knuckles turning stark white as he gripped the device.
"The wedding is off," Ethan said, his voice terrifyingly calm, stripped of all its previous warmth.
Michael laughed nervously, stepping closer and clapping a heavy hand onto Ethan’s tailored shoulder. "Very funny, man. Cut the pre-ceremony jitters. Clara is upstairs in the bridal suite right now putting on her veil. You can’t pull this kind of sick joke with two hundred people waiting outside."
Ethan whipped around, his eyes blazing with a suppressed fury that made Michael instantly step back, his smile vanishing completely.
"I am not joking," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a low, venomous growl. "Sarah is in the hospital. She just had a baby. My baby. Do you hear me, Michael? While we were standing here rehearsing vows for a life built on lies, my entire existence just detonated."
Michael stared at him, his mouth opening and closing as the sheer absurdity and gravity of the words collided in his head. "Sarah? From the city? But Clara... Clara’s family spent forty thousand dollars on this venue. Clara thinks you’re devoted to her. What are you talking about?"
"I don't know the details yet," Ethan snapped, cutting him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "I’m going to find out right now."
Ethan turned on his heel, bypassing the main doors and sprinting down the carpeted side aisle toward the administrative exit.
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"Ethan, wait! You can't just leave!" Michael shouted, lunging after him.
Ethan burst through the heavy fire exit doors, the glaring afternoon sun hitting his face as he sprinted across the gravel parking lot toward his idling car. He threw the driver's side door open, tossed his phone onto the passenger seat, and slammed the accelerator to the floor, leaving a cloud of dust and the faint scent of burning rubber in his wake. As he sped down the highway toward St. Jude’s General Hospital, his phone began to ring persistently on the passenger seat, illuminating the dashboard with Clara’s glowing name and photo. Ethan stared at the screen, his thumb hovering over the decline button, knowing that answering it would mean plunging into a nightmare from which there was no waking up.
