Back in our hometown, on the wedding day, the groom is supposed to carry the bride into the bridal home when she steps out of the car.

But the moment our wedding car pulled up at the building, Duane Vance turned to me and said,

"Lori, I've got something to take care of. Wait here in the car for a bit. Four hours, tops."

With that, he bolted toward the unit next door without a second thought.

I leaned out quickly, wanting to ask where he was going.

Instead, I heard one of the groomsmen ribbing him with a laugh,

"Look at you. You're really going to carry Natalie Delgado down the aisle yourself, drop her off at her new place, and then come back?"

"But four hours is way too long. What if Lori gets upset and calls off the wedding?"

Duane laughed it off, unbothered.

"No chance. You think I don't know her? She's soft as a rabbit. Worst she'll do is shed a few tears, and a little coaxing fixes it."

"She's already twenty-nine, no parents, no family name to speak of. Who else would even want her, besides me?"

"Natalie was my first love, after all. We didn't make it to the end, but carrying her to her wedding, seeing with my own eyes that her in-laws will treat her right, that way there's nothing left to regret."

Every word lodged in my throat. I dragged the corners of my mouth up, weakly.

Five years of giving him my whole heart, and it counted for less than a single word from his mouth: regret.

I took out my phone and texted my childhood sweetheart,

"Cloudview Residences, Building 5, Unit 3, out front. Come get me for the wedding."

——

Ten minutes later, Duane came out of the next unit with Natalie on his back.

A few neighbors who'd come out to see what the fuss was about teased them with a smile,

"The groom's here to fetch his bride? Oh my, that embroidered wedding gown is gorgeous. Those have to be real diamonds set into it, right?"

"What a well-matched little couple. Wishing you a long and happy life together."

Duane didn't bother correcting them. He just signaled a groomsman to hand the neighbors a red envelope and smiled.

"Thank you for the kind wishes."

I sat in the car, fingers clenched in the skirt of my own gown.

Bit by bit, my heart went cold.

My best friend, my maid of honor, couldn't stand it. As they passed by our car,

she shoved the door open and snapped,

"Hey, Vance, is your head broken or what? It's your wedding day, and you leave your own fiancée parked in the car while you carry another woman to her wedding?"

"Is her husband disabled or something? Since when is it your job to stick your nose into someone else's business?"

Duane shifted his grip under Natalie's thighs, steadying her higher.

Only once he'd made sure she was comfortable did he turn to explain to me,

"Lori, today's on me, I admit it."

"But it came out of nowhere. Nat's fiancé's wedding car broke down on the way and couldn't make it in time. It's faster if I bring her over myself."

I glanced at the wedding car across from us, the same model as ours.

The kind so in demand you have to book it half a year in advance.

So much for "out of nowhere." The truth was, he just wanted to make up for never getting to marry his first love.

I nodded. "Got it."

Duane froze, as if all the excuses he'd lined up had suddenly caught in his throat.

There was something startled in his eyes.

Natalie, arms looped around his neck, looked me over and smiled,

"Sorry about this, Lori. You finally get to marry Duane, and now you have to wait a little longer because of me. Your gown's nice, it's just a shame it looks a bit old."

"Still, it works out. Gives you time to tidy up all the loose threads and pulled stitches on it, so you don't embarrass Duane later at the ceremony."

Back home, on the wedding day the couple first bows through the formal rites in the bridal home with the officiant presiding, then changes into a wedding dress for the ceremony.

I said nothing, lowering my eyes to my gown.

The truth was, Natalie wasn't wrong. This one was just a last-minute stand-in Duane had dug up that morning.

Some old style, from God knows where.

The little decorative plastic beads along the neckline were half falling off, and the cuffs and hem were worn down to loose, frayed threads.

The one Natalie was wearing was the gown Duane had commissioned a full year in advance, custom-made by a specialist for more than a hundred grand.

When the finished piece arrived, Duane had said he'd keep it safe for me and hand it over on the wedding day, when the procession came to fetch the bride.

I never imagined "keeping it safe" meant putting it on someone else.

Duane carefully settled her into the car. When he caught the look on my face, he came over and pinched my cheek, smiling.

"My sweetheart looks gorgeous today. Why so quiet? Are you really upset?"

"I promise, the second I drop Nat off, I'll come straight back and do the ceremony with you. All right?"

I lifted my eyes and asked, "Didn't you say the nanny accidentally spilled soy milk on the custom gown this morning?"

Duane went quiet for a few seconds.

"Nat thought it suited her makeup better. I figured it's just a dress, you get married in whatever, it's all the same. I didn't think you'd nitpick over something so small."

So in his eyes, giving away the gown I was supposed to wear at my own wedding,

and leaving me to wear a defective one, was something small.

"Fine, then let's talk about something big."

"Duane, it's not like you don't know the local custom. On the wedding day, the groom has to carry the bride into the marriage home himself."

"Say it again. How long do you want me to wait?"

Duane thought it over. "There and back, no stops in between. About four hours."

I actually laughed, furious.

"The wedding's in three hours, and before that we still have the ceremony and the whole procession to get through. Which part exactly do you think you'll make it back for?"

Duane's expression stiffened, as if he didn't know how to answer.

His groomsmen and friends crowded in to smooth things over.

"His wife's being too hard on him, come on. Duane doesn't have a choice here. They say exes can stay friends, and Nat is his first love after all. The groom on the other side can't come over, so he can't just leave her hanging, can he? That'd be heartless."

"Duane brags about how kind and understanding you are all the time. You can't be this difficult and put him in a corner."

"Right, good things take time. Wait a little longer and maybe your marriage will be blessed with even more luck."

But being kind and understanding was never a reason to let people push their luck.

I shot back, my voice edged with scorn.

"Is that so? If the luck's so great, why don't you have Nat do the waiting?"

They fell silent at once, staring awkwardly at the sky.

I looked at Duane. "I'll ask you only once. Do you absolutely have to go?"

He hesitated for half a second, then nodded and tried to coax me.

"Worst case, we push the ceremony and the wedding to the afternoon. Lori, you've waited five years. What's another four hours..."

I cut him off. "Forget it. Go keep Nat company."

Duane thought I'd caved. Relieved, he walked toward the wedding car across the way.

And I tightened my grip on my phone.

He was right. I'd already waited five years.

So today, I wasn't going to wait anymore.

A sharp cramp twisted through my stomach.

It was a problem I'd carried since my days at the children's home. The moment I got hungry, my stomach ached.

Duane hated dealing with hassles, so I'd been the one coordinating every last detail of the wedding with the hotel.

Last night I'd been so busy confirming the final guest seating chart that I'd fallen asleep exhausted, without even eating.

Then I'd been up at three in the morning to do my makeup, and I still hadn't had a single bite of food since.

I wasn't going to be at this wedding anyway, so I figured I'd head outside the complex and see if any breakfast places were open.

I was just about to get out of the car. One foot hadn't even touched the ground when I was shoved back hard.

The corner of my forehead slammed into the doorframe. No blood, but the pain sent stars bursting across my vision.

Duane's groomsman grinned.

"Sorry about that, hon. Guess I didn't know my own strength."

“But Nat's only half an hour from her start time, and we can't break with tradition or it'll bring bad luck. Duane was worried she'd go hungry, so he went to get her something to eat. He told me to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't get out of the car and cause trouble for Nat.”

Just as he finished, Duane came back, a five-tiered insulated lunch carrier dangling from one hand.

My best friend, still gently blowing on the cut on my forehead, boiled over on the spot.

“Duane, you've got time to stand here keeping your old flame company for half an hour, but no time to carry Lorraine up first?”

“And you won't even let her go eat anything? What is this, house arrest?”

“Before we came, she wanted a piece of bread, and you were the one who said the food was already prepared and rushed her out the door. So this was all just to keep her starving here, so you'd have time to carry that woman up?”

Before Duane could open his mouth, Natalie poked her head out of her own car and said with a smile:

“Lorraine, don't blame Duane. He's just afraid of wasting his strength on you and then dropping me later.”

Beautifully put.

But what I'd wasted on him was far more than just strength.

Duane handed me a plastic bag. Inside were a few buns, long gone cold, obviously left over from the day before.

“The bride can't set foot on the ground herself before the ceremony. Flat ground means poor ground. It'll ruin the family's fortune.”

“Just wait nicely in the car. Have these crab-filled buns first to tide you over.”

I didn't take them.

I only looked at him, almost amused.

“Duane, we've been together five years. You don't know I'm allergic to crab?”

Duane's face shifted, and he gave two uneasy little coughs.

“I've been too busy these past few days. I forgot.”

“I'll check later whether Nat has any leftovers, and bring them to you. Her bridal suite is too far from here, she can't make the trip on an empty stomach. When I get back, I'll take you out for a big meal.”

Natalie called to him from over there in a soft voice: “Duane, are you done talking? I'm so hungry.”

Duane hurried over and lifted out the steaming pastries from the insulated carrier one by one.

Every single one was something Natalie loved.

Afraid of smudging her makeup, he even thoughtfully fed them into her mouth for her.

A laugh nearly rose in my throat at how absurd it was.

There was a time I ran a high fever and couldn't get up, and I'd coaxed him to feed me.

He'd brushed me off, called it childish.

So it turned out it wasn't that he was unwilling. It was just that the person hadn't been me.

Even the so-called food he'd prepared was prepared for Natalie. I was only fit to eat her leftovers.

The spare one had always been me.

My phone buzzed. It was my childhood sweetheart, sharing his live location. He was already on his way.

In less than half an hour, this farce would be over.

Soon the car door was pulled open again by Duane, and the cold wind slapped me full in the face.

“Lorraine, get out.”

I thought he'd had a change of heart and wanted to carry me upstairs.

Before I could ask, Duane spoke again:

“The AC in Nat's wedding car is broken, it can't put out any heat. Swap with her and go wait in that car.”

I lifted my eyes: “Didn't you say the bride can't set foot on the ground herself?”

Duane frowned:

“Special circumstances, special handling. As long as you don't go into the bridal suite, it's fine.”

My best friend wasn't having it.

“Do you even hear yourself? It's December. It's more than twenty below outside.”

“We're not the ones who broke that woman's car. Besides, doesn't she have her Canada Goose? That thing's the warmest there is.”

“It's only because you were in such a rush to get here that Lorraine didn't even get to put on a coat. You want her to wait four hours in a car with no heat? Are you trying to freeze her to death?!”

Duane pinched the bridge of his nose impatiently, a note of warning in his voice.

“Lorraine, I'll leave you a pack of hand warmers.”

“ Don't make me drag you out. It won't look good for either of us.”