On the wedding day, as noon approached, Eric still hadn’t appeared.
The scheduled time had long passed, and no one had come to fetch the bride.
The photographers and stylists looked at each other, faces full of pity as they glanced at me.
I even overheard whispers: “Could the groom have run away?”
Embarrassed, I walked to the door, scanning the distance, but still saw no limousine.
I called Eric.
A woman answered instead: “Sophia, are you getting anxious? Sorry, we’ll be right there.”
My brows furrowed. “Who are you? Where’s Eric? Let me talk to him.”
She ignored my question and cheerfully said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Eric arrives safe and sound.”
Then she hung up.
I tried again—no answer. One more time—the phone was off.
I stood at the doorway, restless and uneasy.
Just then, the limousine finally arrived.
Excited and relieved, I lifted my gown and hurried forward in high heels.
But when the car door opened, a half-human-sized German shepherd leapt out.
Startled, I screamed and stumbled backward, tearing my dress as I fell.
Then I heard laughter.
Lily jumped down from the car, tugging at the dog’s leash.
“Sorry, Sophia, I forgot to hold onto the leash just now.”