I was about to answer when her phone rang.
I saw the caller ID. Isabella.
She picked up, irritation bleeding through her voice.
"Fine! I know! It's not canceled! I'll smooth things over with him! Don't worry!"
She hung up and turned to me.
"Wilfred, my mom says the wedding has to go ahead tomorrow as planned."
"I don't want to upset her, so let's keep everything the way it is. But can you be the one who runs?"
"My mom adores you. If you're the runaway groom, she won't blame me. And I can explain it to her later, tell her I only got the license with Graham because I was upset."
My eyes went wide. I couldn't believe these words had come from the woman I'd loved for years.
But then I remembered—she was already Graham's wife.
And once I accepted that, nothing she said or did could surprise me anymore.
I was leaving anyway. Might as well grant her this one last thing.
"Fine."
Maybe it was how readily I agreed that finally snapped Carrie out of her tunnel vision.
She noticed, at last, that the shattered frame on the floor held our wedding portrait.
She noticed the blood smeared across the top of my foot.
Her eyes reddened instantly, and she rushed back into the bedroom to grab a first-aid kit.