Page 1 of The Only Road Back

BETH

The wedding dress is a vise. The bodice squeezes my lungs, the skirt pools at my feet—so much fabric, so much expectation.

I stare at my reflection—a stranger with elaborate curls and flawless makeup that took two hours to create. My mother’s pearl necklace feels like a shackle, cold and heavy against my skin.

“You look beautiful, honey.” Mom’s voice is breathless as she fluffs my veil yet again. “Clark won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

I smile, the hollow, practiced kind that makes my cheeks stiff. It satisfies her. “Thanks, Mom.”

She steps back and presses a hand to her heart, eyes shining. “I’ve waited for this day since you were born.”

I bite back the words you waited, not me .

This is the life I’m supposed to want: the picture-perfect wedding, the steady husband, happiness boxed into neat lines like the hopscotch patterns I traced as a child.

“Forty minutes, ladies!” the wedding planner sings from the hallway.

Mom squeezes my shoulders. “I’ll check on your dad. Don’t wrinkle the dress.” She kisses my cheek and sweeps out, leaving Chanel No. 5 and nerves clinging to the air behind her.

I finally exhale.

Alone, the bridal suite feels cavernous. My bouquet sits on the vanity—white roses and baby’s breath. Traditional. Safe. Just like this entire day.

Something’s missing. It has been for a long time—a hollow stretching beneath my ribs, too deep for vows or champagne to fill.

My phone buzzes in the little satin purse Stephanie claimed I needed. Stephanie—maid of honor, golden child, everything I’m not.

A text from Lori: Are you good? Need rescue?

Lori knows. She was the only one who caught my hesitation when Clark proposed at my parents’ anniversary dinner, the only one who noticed my voice tremble as I agreed.

I type, I’m fine. Just nerves.

The lie looks cheap. I erase it.

Where are you? I send.

Hiding from your Aunt Martha. She’s matchmaking again.

A genuine smile breaks through, my first today. I don’t know what I would ever do without Lori.

I need a break. Five minutes is all I want, five minutes away from the perfume, expectations, and the dress in the mirror that fits someone I don’t know.

I gather up the ridiculous skirt and slip through the door into the silent hallway.

Right, wasn’t the garden this way? If I move quickly, I can steal a sliver of freedom and be back before anyone notices.

A low laugh stops me. It brushes the air, intimate and familiar.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” A woman, breathless. Too close.

“I can’t wait until later. Six months, and you still drive me crazy.” Clark’s voice. Impossible to mistake.

“Harder, baby,” Stephanie gasps. “Fuck me harder.”

For a heartbeat, everything freezes. My body carries me forward as if I have no say.

A storage closet door stands ajar. Through the crack: Stephanie, her bridesmaid dress bunched at her waist, Clark pinning her to the wall, both of them lost in each other. In betrayal.

The bouquet slips from my fingers. It lands with a muffled thud that sounds thunderous in the hush.

They don’t notice. They’re absorbed, oblivious.

I step back. One, two paces. My heart pounds, but my feet move on their own, propelling me away before I scream or collapse or beg for an explanation I never want to hear.

Back in the bridal suite, I lock the door. My reflection stares out from beneath smeared makeup, drained and unrecognizable. The future I was supposed to want has shattered.

My hands tremble as I reach for my phone.

Lori. Need you. Now.

Three dots appear. Coming. What happened?

I can’t write it. Typing would make it real.

Just come. Please.

I sink onto the ottoman. The veil snags on the chair and yanks my scalp. I rip it off. Hairpins scatter across the carpet like tiny shrapnel.

A gentle knock at the door. “Beth? It’s me.”

I unlock it. Lori slips in, her dress the same blue as Stephanie’s, but she wears it without malice. Her eyes meet mine. She knows.

“What happened?” Her voice is sharp and soft at the same time.

“Clark. Stephanie.” My words are flat, hollow. “Together. In the storage closet.”

Her face darkens, then turns fierce. “That bastard. That absolute—” She chokes back curses and takes my hands, which are ice. “Beth, what do you want? Tell me.”

What do I want? For the first time, I know.

“I want to leave.”

“The venue? We can go—”

“No.” I stand, hands trembling. “I want out. The wedding. This town. All of it.”

Understanding clicks in her eyes. She nods. “Okay. Let’s get you out of this dress.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m standing in jeans and a button-up, hair scraped back, eyes scrubbed raw. The gown lies deflated on the floor. My reflection is my own again.

“What’s the plan?” Lori rifles through my overnight bag.

“I don’t have one.” My voice is steadying. “Just get in the car and go.”

“Your parents—”

“Let them worry.” For once, the thought is delicious. “They’ll blame me, anyway. Stephanie never does wrong.”

Lori nods. She knows the drill.

“I’ll make a scene.” She smiles. “No one will notice you’re gone. Give it five minutes.”

I hug her tightly. “Thank you. I’ll call when I stop.”

“You’d better.” She squeezes harder. “And, Beth? I’m proud of you.”

Pride. It surprises me, but for a moment, it fits.

Lori peeks out the door. “Go when you hear yelling.”

When the door closes, I count five minutes by the antique clock, each second replacing panic with relief.

At last, I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip into an empty, echoing hallway. Voices erupt from the reception hall—Lori, I’m sure.

I keep my head down, skirt the crowd, and push through a service door into the parking lot. My sedan waits where I left it. I slide in, dump the bag, and start the engine.

Messages light up my phone: Mom. Dad. Clark. Stephanie. I silence it.

I put the car in Drive . No destination. No plan.

Just get the hell away.