Motel on the Outskirts.
Bridget stared at the faded motel sheets, some of them even burned through by old cigarette holes. Disgust rose in her throat.
"Seriously? Who would ever stay in a dump like this?"
Caleb justughed and pulled her into his arms, his voice teasing, not angry. "Bridget, you''re finally all mine now."
But Bridget felt anything but happy. She shoved him away, scowling. "Shut up! Tell me-why the hell did you drag me to this godforsaken ce?"
"The Garcias have guys searching for you all over town. Justy low for now, okay? Once I get us ne tickets, we''re out of here."
He leaned against the rickety, scarred table, lighting a cigarette as he watched her. Even with her hair a mess and her makeup smudged, standing there in a wedding dress that had seen better days, Bridget was still beautiful to him.
He reached out, brushed some dirt from her cheek, then suddenly grabbed her by the chin and pulled her in for a rough, desperate kiss.
Bridget red at him and pped him hard across the face.
"Enough! I''m not in the mood."
Caleb just rolled his tongue against his cheek and let her get it out of her system.
After a moment, Bridget took a deep breath and held out her hand. "Give me your phone. I need to check on my mom. See how things are at home."
Without a word, Caleb tossed her his phone.
Bridget dialed, her hands shaking. "Mom?"
Miriam, usually the most loving mother in the world, immediately unleashed her fury.
"Oh, so you finally remember to call home? Do you have any idea what you''ve done? Your father had a heart attack because of you-he just got out of the ICU!"
"This is unbelievable! Running away with someone else in the middle of your own wedding? You''ve ruined everything. The entire Simpson family is aughingstock now! We can''t even show our faces in Kingstoria."
"You... You should just go. We don''t have a daughter like you anymore."
Miriam''s voice broke as she hung up.
A few minutester, a screenshot popped up on Caleb''s phone.
"Your mom sent you money," Caleb said, ncing at the screen. “At least we
won''t have to worry about cash once we''re out of the country."
Bridget stared at the message, feeling nothing. She used to be the most envied woman in all of Kingstoria-now she was running away like a criminal.
How could she ept this?
Caleb didn''t seem to notice her
turmoil. He just stubbed out his cigarette, walked over, and started caressing her, his eyes burning with longing.
He kissed her cheek, whispering, "Bridget, trust me. I''ll make you happy."
Bridget clenched her fists, but after a few seconds, she rxed, reached up, and wrapped her arms around his neck, forcing a smile.
"Caleb, you''re all I have now. You''ll help me, right?"
"Of course."
"There''s one thing I have to do before we leave. I want Sylvia gone. I can''t just walk away and let her win."
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
Caleb gently brushed her cheek. "How do you want to handle it?”
Bridget kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth. "Just y along. We''ll have help."
"Alright."
He kissed her again, more fiercely this time, tearing at her wedding dress and pressing her down onto the creaky bed.
He kissed every inch of exposed skin, but Bridget just stared at the cracked
ceiling above, her face nk, her eyes cold with hatred.
Sylvia, you''re finally going to get what you deserve.
When Sylvia woke up the next morning, Rupert was already gone. She sat up, spotting a neat set of women''s clothes hanging on the coat rack.
She had to get to the studio soon-no way she''d have time to dash home and change. And there was absolutely no way she was showing up to work in a
bridesmaid''s dress.
As she grabbed the clothes, something slipped out and fell to the floor.
Underwear.
Sylvia flushed red, grabbed it in a hurry, and shoved it into the pile of clothes.
Seriously? Why does he have to meddle in everything?
She got dressed, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the room.