Un-Tying the Knot {h.s.}

Chapter 71

I hear the loud clattering of the door slam behind me as I exit the building, heels echoing as I leave  — not just the church, but my life, really; the life I've come to know for the past almost-year. I feel the hot air billow around my body, the summer heat and humidity stifling me, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

Not that I could in my frantic state, anyway.

I let out a strangled sob, knowing that I need to get out of here immediately. Not just because Harry Styles just ripped my heart out of my chest and let Eleanor pound it into a million pieces, but because my sobbing has made me acutely unpresentable for any type of public consumption. There's not a single amount of cover up in the world that could get rid of the mascara streaks and blotchy skin that I know are adorning my face right now.

No, I can't go back in there.

In a frenzy to get out of here, I quickly scan my surroundings, feeling an even deeper sense of panic. I don't have my phone, so I can't call an Uber. There's no way a taxi would be anywhere near this place with security around the block.

How the hell do I get out of here?

My heart is nearly beating out of my chest with anxiety. That is, until I see a town car waiting along the sidewalk, one of many of them littered around here for guests when it's time to move to the grand reception. I breathe out a hopeless thank you to the universe that has so brutally betrayed me this year before making a beeline for it, pounding mercilessly on the window until it gets rolled down.

Thank God I recognize the driver.

"Jeff —"

"Olivia?" He asks, partly curious and partly concerned. I know my appearance has to look quite haggard, and I am beating frantically on his window like a crazy homeless person.

"C-can you t-take me to the office?" I fumble through my words, quickly stumbling into the back of the car, not caring if he says yes or no at this point, and also not caring that I ripped a part of my dress in the process — because let me tell you, there is nothing elegant about anything I'm doing at this moment, and there's not an ounce of me that gives a shit.

"S-sure," he offers, uncertainty tainting his tone. "Are you sure it's okay to leave? The wedding should be done in less than an hour and I'm supposed to —

I'm too broken to care what he thinks right now, and I'm certainly too pissed off to give a fuck if one of Eleanor's friends gets inconvenienced by missing a town car.

"J-just go. A-and hurry..."

I can't help but let out another strangled sob in relief as the car lurches forward, my forehead leaning involuntarily against the back of the seat in front of me, clutching my sides as I ugly cry it all out.

As the car puts much needed space between me and the biggest upset I've ever experienced, my breathing slowly starts to come a little easier. It's only once we get on the freeway that I truly allow the gravity of the situation to hit me.

I'm broken.

My heart.
My body.
My soul.

I can't help but replay the events in my head, my hands gripping at his vest in a panic — how I poured my heart out to him. I did the thing I promised myself I would never do. I begged him. In a plea of desperation, I begged him not to marry her. I begged him to love me.