The Bride Saw Red Threads of Desire, Then Fled the Wedding Chapter 01

The Bride Saw Red Threads of Desire, Then Fled the Wedding Chapter 01

I was ten the first time I saw them. Scarlet tethers, glowing just above people’s heads, strung between every man and woman who’d ever slept together.

They couldn’t be faked, and they couldn’t be hidden. If two people had been together, the tether was there.

By the time I was a teenager, two new tethers had bloomed above my father’s head.

He cheated.

Then my mother filed for divorce three times before the paperwork finally stuck.

So when it was my turn, I had one rule. Loyalty. Nothing else came close.

Graham Calder had nothing above his head. Not a single tether. Twenty-five years untouched.

My bachelorette party was the night before the wedding. The girls wanted to play a game.

Lose a round, hand over your phone. Everyone gets to scroll through it.

Camille Vaughn’s turn came, and she clutched her phone to her chest, her face going pink. “Oh, absolutely not. He kept me up all night, and trust me, no one needs to see what’s on this phone.”

The girls piled on. Camille had been dating someone for months, and not a single one of us had met the guy.

I was about to let her off the hook. Then I saw it. A scarlet tether, stretching from above Camille’s head, straight through the crowd, all the way to Graham.

Last night, when he dropped me off, his head had been clear. Nothing there. Not a trace.

Just thirty minutes ago, he’d texted me.

[Tessa, I waited 25 years for you. Tomorrow night is finally ours. I love you.]

Graham stood in the doorway, watching me like I was the only woman in the room. Camille sat across from me, still glowing.

I picked up my glass and tapped it against hers.

“So, Camille. Your mystery man, would his last name happen to be Calder?”

…

Wine sloshed over the rim of Camille’s glass. Something flickered behind her eyes, there and gone.

Audrey Bellamy scoffed, oblivious to the tension. “What does his last name matter? Come on, a loss is a loss. Hand it over.”

Audrey lunged for the phone, but Camille pulled it away, laughing, and ducked behind me like I was a shield.

“Seriously, you can’t. He’s crazy private. If he found out I showed anyone, he’d lose it.”

“Wow. You’re really protecting this guy.”

“It’s complicated. He’s not ready for people to know about us yet.”

But while she said it, her eyes drifted past every girl in the room and settled on Graham.

The tether between them burned. I’d spent half my life watching these threads tangle over strangers’ heads. Not once did I think I’d see one stitched to the man I was marrying in the morning.

“Tess, back me up here.” She pouted. “He really doesn’t want anyone else seeing these.”

My hand wouldn’t stop shaking. I set my glass down before anyone noticed and made myself smile.

“My party, my rules. You lose, you hand it over.”

“Oh, damn!” Sienna Frost smacked the table. “The bride has spoken.”

Camille blinked. She hadn’t expected me to throw her to the wolves.

Graham came up behind me and rested his hand on my shoulder.

“Tessa. Take it easy.”

“She’s shy. You’re the bride, don’t bully your own bridesmaid.”

Camille.

Not Ms. Vaughn, the polite, distant way he’d always addressed her. Just Camille.

I stared at his hand on my shoulder.

Last night, that same hand had pulled my coat shut. He’d held me through the fabric, telling me he wanted to give me everything, whole and untouched, on our wedding night.

That was less than twenty-four hours ago. And now, the first tether.

“I’m the one picking on her?”

“You know how you get. Once you latch onto something, you don’t let it go.”

Graham smiled and pressed a fresh drink into my hand.

“It’s just wedding jitters, babe. Take a sip.”

Camille slipped behind him.

“See? Graham gets it.” She tilted her head. “Tessa, you better treat him right after you’re married, okay? A guy this sweet is hard to find.”

“You seem awfully invested in my fiancé.”

“Just looking out for you, babe.”

She laughed behind her hand. That’s when I saw it—the plain band on her pinkie.

A ring I recognized. Graham had shown me that design once.

He’d said the design was too simple. Not special enough for me.

Now it sat on Camille’s finger. And it fit perfectly.