Four Years Of Hair For A Wedding And He Cut It For A Scene Chapter 05

Four Years Of Hair For A Wedding And He Cut It For A Scene Chapter 05

“Wait, Garrett, what are you doing?”

The crowd gasped. Garrett was already moving, pale and shoving through the crowd.

“Elena!”

He was heading straight for the altar.

Screams broke out all around us.

“Garrett! Are you out of your mind?”

“Someone grab him!”

“We’re not in the city!”

The crew went pale. Seven or eight of them tackled him at once, pinning his arms.

“Don’t do this!”

“It’s not your wedding!”

“Interrupting a sacred vow is a crime up here! You crash that ceremony, and they’ll kill you. I’m not exaggerating!”

“Do you have a death wish?”

A few of the local men were already watching, their faces hard.

Someone hissed.

“Get him under control.”

“If he pisses these locals off, none of us can save him.”

Garrett wasn’t hearing any of it. His eyes were locked on me.

His eyes were bloodshot, the veins at his temples standing out.

“Let go of me!”

“Elena!”

“Get down from there!”

Audrey panicked and grabbed his arm.

“Garrett!”

“You need to calm down!”

Garrett shook her off.

His eyes hadn’t left me once.

“Elena, come down!”

“Come down. Just talk to me!”

The crew held on, dragging him back. The whole scene was chaos.

A gentle hand touched my arm.

By the time I turned around, Father Silas had finished the final blessing.

Julian stood beside me. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Do you regret it?”

“If you do, it’s not too late.”

I went still.

I looked past him, out into the crowd.

Garrett was still struggling.

He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.

But something in me had gone quiet.

I shook my head.

“I don’t regret it.”

I turned to Julian.

I smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

The worry on Julian’s face gave way to relief.

Father Silas turned his rosary, smiling.

“Elena.”

“May the Lord protect you.”

“May He grant you peace and abundant joy.”

My throat tightened.

I nodded, unable to speak.

The wedding continued.

In North Crest, the bride and groom shared a chalice of strong mountain wine.

Someone handed the silver chalice over.

One sip, and I choked as it burned down my throat.

Everyone around us burst out laughing.

“The bride can’t handle her liquor!”

“Julian, save her!”

“Don’t let Elena pass out on her own wedding day!”

Julian took the chalice from me.

He finished the rest of it himself, smiling the whole time.

The crowd roared.

“Another round!”

“Julian doesn’t leave until he can’t stand!”

They kept the drinks coming.

Julian drank almost every one.

He looked like the kind of man who’d nurse one glass all night, but he could hold his own.

By the end, the tips of his ears flushed.

His eyes had gone a little unfocused.

Across the yard, the crew sat in silence.

No one spoke.

The cameras were still running, but nobody was watching them.

The tension was suffocating. Garrett hadn’t moved. He sat there, staring at me, and hadn’t stopped since it began.

Like if he looked away, I’d vanish.

Audrey leaned in beside him.

“Garrett, we should head back. It’s getting dark. The roads down the mountain won’t be safe.”

Garrett didn’t answer. Audrey bit her lip.

“Garrett?”

He still didn’t look at her.

His eyes stayed on me. The same way he used to look at Audrey, like no one else in the room existed.

Audrey’s expression soured.

She shot me a look, resentment barely held in check.

Finally, she stood up.

“Suit yourself!”

She turned and walked off.

Garrett didn’t even glance up. Like she’d never been there at all.

The sky darkened, and the wedding feast wound down.

Julian sat beside me, a little drunk, the chalice still in his hand.

“Elena.”

“We leave tomorrow.”

“We’ll stop in the city first, then head home to Bay City.”

“That’s home now. Yours and mine.”