Chapter 3 - The Falling Veil
The groom slowly raised his head.
His neck snapped with a sickening, audible pop.
He didn't look at the maid.
His eyes locked entirely onto the blonde woman buried under the white veil.
"WHAT DID YOU DO?"
His voice wasn't loud, but it scraped against the walls of the hall like rusted iron.
The bride opened her mouth, but her vocal cords completely seized.
She took a half-step backward.
Her silk heel caught on the heavy hem of her wedding dress.
The groom’s hand shot upward.
The movement was a blur of black tuxedo fabric.
The back of his hand collided heavily with her cheekbone.
The impact whipped her head to the side, dislodging the silver tiara pinned to her hair.
The white lace veil tore slightly at the crown, sliding down to expose her face.
Her champagne flute dropped from her paralyzed fingers.
It hit the floor, adding a second explosion of crystal to the wreckage.
Tears instantly breached her lower lashes, cutting thick, wet tracks through her foundation.
A deep, violent red mark blossomed across her pale cheek.
She reached up, her trembling fingers hovering just millimeters over the bruised skin.
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The groom took a step toward her, his polished shoes crunching over the broken glass.
His jaw muscles flexed rhythmically, completely tight.
