Liona
Liona glanced from her and Carly's reflection in the full-length mirror in front of her to the clock on the wall. Outside, in the actual church, she could hear the guests gathering and the musicians tuning their instruments. It wouldn't be long now, she knew. Her fate was about to be sealed.
In here, they were surrounded by stray clothing and luggage bags. She hadn't shown up in her wedding dress, after all. It was too precious to just wear around.
“You look so beautiful,” Carly said from beside her, her eyes almost beginning to tear up. “I'm so happy for you.”
“I do, don't I?” Liona asked, her thoughts sinking to a dark place. There was no denying what was plain as day. Admittedly, she did look beautiful in the gown she and Wyland had chosen, even with the ridiculously long train he'd insisted on. And, like with everything, whatever Wyland insisted on, he got.
“It'll make more of a statement,” he'd said at the time. To her, though, the only statement the dress made was about how immobile she was while wearing it. How trapped she was, how trapped she'd allowed herself to become. It was like that train was everything wrong with her life, everything wrong with all the decisions she'd made up to this point. Trading comfort and poshness in one area for pain and torment in another.
She realized, then, that she wanted her life back. But no one was simply going to give her free will back to her. She needed to take it. She needed to grab hold and pull it to her.
“Are you ready for this?” Carly asked in her most cheery voice, snapping the bride back to reality by squeezing her bare shoulders.
“Yeah,” Liona replied with a weak smile, “I think so.”
There was a knock at the door.
“You almost ready in here, dear?” the wedding coordinator asked through the door. There was no hint of doubt in her voice, no expectation of impending disappointment. Poor woman.
“Almost,” Carly called back, reassuring her. “We are, aren't we?”
Liona smiled as her eyes flickered over to one of the windows on the far wall, the one she'd been looking at earlier as she daydreamed about being a stray ray of sunshine. It was a fairly large picture window. Easily large enough for a grown woman to fit through. Even if she was wearing a wedding dress.
“Just about,” Liona said. “Can you give me a minute, though?”
“Honey?” her dad called through the door. “Almost ready? The natives are getting restless, dear.”
“Just a minute, dad,” Liona called back.
“You still feeling bad?” Carly asked as she touched the back of her hand to Liona's forehead.
Liona slapped her hand away, laughing as she did so. “I'm fine, silly. I just need a minute to ... I don't know, say goodbye to the single life?”
Carly laughed. “Whatever,” she said as she leaned in and touched her cheek to her friend's. “Five minutes can't hurt, can it?”
Her friend headed out into the hallway and quietly shut the door behind her. Liona heard her on the other side of the door, soothing both the coordinator and her father. Thank god for Carly, and her help. Even if she didn't realize she was giving it.
Finally alone, she sprang into action. She quickly removed the gown's unwieldy train and left the bundle of cloth in a crumpled mess on the floor. With that done, she grabbed her overnight bag off the chair she'd set it on earlier and began to throw any discarded clothes she could find inside of it. She hadn't packed much since they'd planned on going by the house before their so-called honeymoon.
With her bag haphazardly packed, she went over to the big picture window and examined the frame. She could fit through easily. But her car wasn't here. Liona had driven in with Carly. There wasn't much she could do about the vehicle situation at the moment but maybe if she could get away from the church grounds she could call an Uber and use that as her getaway.
She chewed at her lip as she glanced from the window to the door and back again. The door to the hallway didn't have a lock, unfortunately. Someone might hear her in the hall if she started to mess with the window. Liona went over and grabbed the chair her overnight bag had been resting on and carefully pulled it over to the door.
“Honey?” her dad called from out in the hall, startling her. “You alright in there?”
“Yep, be right there,” Liona said from just on the other side of the door from him. “Just one more second, okay?”
She didn't necessarily enjoy lying to her dad, or relish the thought of what she was about to put him through, but she didn't see any other way forward. There was no way in hell she could marry Wyland, and if she told her father what she planned he'd probably just try to talk her out of walking out this way. And, just like always, he'd win his argument and she’d roll over and listen to her him.
Instead, she wedged the back of the chair under the doorknob. It would be difficult for him to win the argument if he couldn't have a chance to make one.
She grabbed her bag and headed over to the window as someone began to jiggle the doorknob. She lifted the window and tossed her luggage through.
“Honey?” her dad called, his voice frantic. “Just tell me you're okay!”
“I'm okay, dad,” Liona called, then silently. “Better than I've felt in years.” She lifted the window the rest of the way, letting in the bright, fresh spring air. A hint of roses hit her nose, setting off a flash of memories about her grandma's backyard gardens. She didn't even want to think what Granny Copeland's opinion of her running off would have been, had she still been alive to give it.
Luckily, the church staff hadn't thought to put a screen in on this window. Either they didn't have a problem with bugs getting in, or maybe they understood that a bride sometimes needed to escape while the getting was good. Liona hoped it was the latter as she tossed her overnight bag out through the window and onto the well-manicured grass, then followed after her flying luggage.
A loud tearing sound ripped through the still morning air. Shocked, she looked back and saw the hem of her dress caught on a nail sticking out of the windowsill.
“Son of a bitch,” she grumbled. It had been a pretty dress, and expensive.
Back in the bridal room, her dad was pounding on the door. “Liona! Honey!”
It tore her heart out to run away like this. She didn't want to consider how her mother would react when she heard the news. Or how poor Carly and her other bridesmaids would take these events. They'd invested almost as much time in this wedding as she had, put just as much effort into this thing. She felt bad for pulling the rug out from under them like this, but she didn't have a choice.
And then, of course, there was her Wyland. What were the consequences of embarrassing him like this? Whatever the case, it couldn’t be much worse than what she’d already endured.
Besides, she'd made up her mind. Her dress was ruined, and she was now on the marital lam. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. With her high heels still on, she took off across the church lawn and headed for a small path led through the trees and out to main road. The most important thing right now was to get away before anyone, especially Wyland, found her.
Hopefully, she'd be able to figure things out from there. If not, she'd come up with something. She was determined, now.