The Bride Saw Red Threads of Desire, Then Fled the Wedding Chapter 11

The Bride Saw Red Threads of Desire, Then Fled the Wedding Chapter 11

Camille posted about the pregnancy herself.

A photo of a positive pregnancy test with a single–line caption. [A gift from fate.]

Zero comments.

Everyone who knew her had either muted her or kept scrolling.

Audrey screenshotted it and dropped it in the group chat.

Lila responded first.

[She’s posting this on purpose. She’s trying to corner Graham into stepping up.]

Phoebe was right behind her.

[Or she wants Tessa to see it. Just to twist the knife.]

Three days later, Camille went to Graham.

Graham demanded a paternity test.

Camille broke down and called him heartless.

Her ex didn’t even blink. He blocked her on everything and posted publicly: [Not mine. Don’t come looking for

me.]

Two men. Both running.

A week later, Audrey texted me a photo late at night.

[Camille’s in the ER. Ectopic pregnancy.]

I stared at the screen.

The “Surgery in Progress” sign was lit in the photo. One of Camille’s old coworkers had taken it and posted it

in a local gossip group.

Even the caption was pitiful.

[Nobody was there to sign the consent form. They had to call her mother, who drove three hours from

upstate to get there.]

I closed the photo.

I didn’t share it. Didn’t comment.

I turned off my phone and stood on the balcony.

The night air in Cedarwick was cool. It moved through me and took whatever was left with it.

Not forgiveness. Not satisfaction either.

Just the clean, weightless feeling of knowing that none of it was mine to carry anymore.

Three months later.

My new apartment faced south. The balcony caught sunlight all afternoon.

The business outgrew the café. Audrey found me a small office suite and talked the landlord down on rent.

No nameplate on the door. Just a note in Audrey’s handwriting.

[Fidelity Check Studio. Premarital Screening Available. Prices Non–Negotiable.]

Ten clients a day. Booked solid through the middle of next month.

Everyone who sat across from me was scared of the same thing.

A bride came in three days before her wedding. When she saw the result, she grabbed onto me and cried for twenty minutes. Then she dried her face, walked out, and canceled everything.

A husband booked a secret appointment. When he found out his wife’s head was clear, he walked out with red eyes and nearly collided with her in the doorway. She’d come for the same thing.

They stood there in the hallway, looking at each other. Then they both started laughing.

Some walked in tangled in tethers from head to shoulders, sat down, crossed their legs, and asked if I could

write them a clear report.

Audrey would lean out from behind the office door and throw them out herself.

That night, around the grill on my balcony, Lila ran the final numbers.

“After costs, taxes, and payments to the four of us, your net profit this quarter is…” She held the phone screen

up to my face.

It was a long number.

My mother was sitting next to us, holding a spatula. She didn’t look as happy as I’d thought she would.

She flipped a burger patty on the grill, watched it sizzle, and then turned to me.

“I spent your whole childhood telling you to hide. I should’ve known better.”

Audrey lifted her glass.

“Girls. To Tessa.”

Our glasses met in the middle. Foam sloshed over the rims and splattered the appointment book still open

on the table.

“To whatever comes next.”

Outside, the night was soft. And this messy, wide–open life I’d built from the wreckage was only just getting

started.