Chapter 2: Chapter 1

"There's a lot more to a wedding than romance and roses," My wedding planner, Mrs. Love, would say. Mother would chip in with anecdotes from her perfect wedding thirty years ago as would all her friends, but no one warned me about this. No one ever mentioned the possibility of such a revelation right after one's wedding.

"You waited until the wedding is over to tell me you were not being completely honest earlier? What were you being dishonest about?" I asked, though deep down I knew I was not ready to hear it. Whatever he was hiding couldn't have been revealed before the wedding or he wouldn't have dragged it out until now.

"Isa, you're a wonderful woman." He reached to take my hand and I avoided his touch like the plague.

"Save it. And get straight to the point."

"I've had an affair."

Of course. What was I expecting?

"Why are you telling me this?" I probed, trying my best to hold back my tears.

"You deserve to know the truth. We are getting married after all, it's only fair for you to know."

I rolled my eyes. "Do you think I'm a fool? You purposefully waited for the wedding to be over and then you couldn't hold your tongue anymore. Someone or something's forcing you to tell me. What is it? Is she pregnant?" It was the wildest guess I could come up with but when his eyes twitched, I realized I was right.

"It was an accident." He bit out.

"An accident? Did you accidentally trip and land inside her?" My chest heaved and I knew I would make a fool out of myself if I continued listening to his rubbish. I needed to get out of here, but he grabbed my arm before I could.

"Isa, we don't have to break up. I mean, we are already married, aren't we? I can't abandon my son either. We can take care of him, yeah?"

I stared at the man I had loved for ten years in disbelief. "What did you say?"

"You heard me."

I did. I just didn't want to believe he would suggest making me raise his illegitimate child barely a minute after confessing he had betrayed me.

He tightened his hand around my arm to stop me from leaving. "The media is out there."

I forced my hand out of his and blazed through the hall to the exit anyway. Who cared about the media? I vaguely heard yells of my name as I ran through the crowd of waltzing pairs, my vision blurring with every step I took.

"Miss?" My chauffeur's voice pulled me out of my trance.

"Isa!" Mother yelled and I turned to see her running towards me. I wanted nothing more than to jump into her arms so I did, meeting her halfway.

"Honey, what happened?" She cupped my face. Still trying not to break down in front of dozens of cameras, I explained everything in the lowest voice I could muster.

"That's horrible. How could he do that?" She took my hand and it took me seconds to realize she was pulling me back towards the reception hall.

"Mom, I don't want to go back." I croaked through my parched throat.

"You have to. What's everyone going to say if you ditch your wedding?"

This was less believable than Max's revelation. "My husband just revealed he cheated on me and got a woman pregnant, and all you care about is what people will say?"

"I'm not asking you to forgive him or anything. All I'm asking is that you be considerate. Why don't we talk about all this once the wedding is done? I'm sure we can find a solution."

The more she spoke, the worse I felt. I forced a laugh and turned back to my chauffeur. "Fabien, get me out of here."

He immediately opened the back door for me. "Where would you like to go, miss?"

"Anywhere." I saw Max trying to navigate his way through reporters, probably being bombarded with questions about what happened. I wanted to be anywhere but near him.

"Home?" Fabien asked, and I instantly shook my head. Home was not home anymore. I had always known my parents cared about their image but I didn't know it was at the expense of my feelings.

"If you want to cry, you should. Bottling it up doesn't help much." Fabien spoke up. As if that was the trigger I needed, my tears came flooding out.

_____

I must have cried for an eternity and fallen asleep in the car. When I opened my eyes, we were in a parking lot I couldn't recognize.

"Where are we?" I sat up to ask Fabien.

"I figured you would want to spend the night at a hotel instead of home. Are you ready to check in?" He asked, and when I nodded, he got out and opened the door for me. One step out of the car was all it took to remember what I was wearing—a wedding gown with an exaggeratively long train. If news traveled fast enough, it wouldn't be difficult for anyone to know who I was.

For the first time, I wish I had followed the wedding planner's advice and worn something else for the reception. I had thought it would be too much trouble to get changed into different gowns but I had to admit, it would have been easier to pretend to be anything but a runaway bride if I was not wearing such an obvious gown.

"At least it's detachable." I reached at my sides and unhooked part of the skirt. It didn't do much but at least the weight wasn't as much. "You can leave." I dismissed Fabien, but like he always did, he remained rooted to the ground, ready to follow me around and protect me.

"I'm trying to save you some embarrassment, okay? You can do better than appear on tabloids tomorrow with lots of speculation surrounding you. Go back home, okay?" He didn't move so I gave up. "Fine. Don't blame me if journalists come after you." I grabbed my skirt in my hands and made my way into the lobby, trying to ignore all the knowing eyes on me.

Brides were supposed to check into hotel rooms, smiling lovingly with their arms hooked around their new husbands. None of them looked like me, with swollen eyes and hair looking like a mess.

"Hi, I would like to check in." I mustered my courage and said to the receptionist. She had a billion questions obvious on her face but at least she was professional enough not to ask them.

"Your surname?" She asked.

"Ca.."

"Clair," Fabien said before I could. I shot him a confused look. That was my middle name. But now that he said it out aloud, I was relieved. Isabella Cartier was probably making her rounds on the internet right now and I'd give anything to not be her for the night. It turned out, I didn't need to give anything. I only needed to have the best bodyguard and chauffeur who seemed to be a psychic as well.

"Bella Clair? Your room is 2504." The receptionist slid a key card across the desk. I smiled briefly at her and hugged Fabien when he least expected it.

"Miss, you cannot do that." He complained for the thousandth time and stiffly pushed me away.

"You're my friend. And friends hug." I laughed. It was fun teasing him.

"I'm not your friend, I'm your bodyguard. Go to your room. I'll pick you up tomorrow if you want to go anywhere."

I nodded and made a beeline for the elevator, afraid I'd be recognized. It was a relief to be alone in the elevator and when I finally got to the twenty-fifth floor, my heart filled with dread. Fabien had booked a presidential suite and it had everything I could ever ask for, but it lacked the one thing I needed most. It was not a wedding suite and my husband was not here. My eyes stung and I let my tears out yet again. I was not ready to face this yet.

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