Page 37 of Ava After Midnight

“Ava,” Jade tries again, her voice clearer now. “Before you do this?—”

“Ready, ladies?” The coordinator cuts her off, ushering us into formation. “Remember, on the third measure...”

But I’m not listening. I’m somewhere else. In a dimly lit bedroom, tangled in sheets. In strong arms that felt like a sanctuary.

Domingo’s voice echoes in my mind.Tell me something real, Ava.

The truth is, nothing about this moment feels real. Not the designer dress. Not the perfect aisle. Not the carefully planned future waiting for me like a cage wrapped in lace.

The quartet swells.

One by one, my bridesmaids glide forward. Mia first, then Jade, both carrying bouquets that cost more than my first car.

“Last chance,” Zoe whispers, squeezing my hand before taking her position. Her eyes keep darting to the chapel’s side door, like she’s expecting...

No. Don’t hope. Don’t wish. Don’t dream of dark eyes and calloused hands.

My father steps beside me, clearing his throat. “You ready, princess?” His hand, warm and grounded, wraps around mine, threading it through his arm.

The bridal march begins.

Through the doors, Matthew waits at the altar, polished and perfect in his designer tux. Everything I’m supposed to want.

So why does it feel like I’m walking to my execution?

The chapel doors swing open.

Breathe. Just breathe.

I take a step. Another. Each click of my heels on marble feels like a countdown to catastrophe.

My father’s grip tightens on my hand as we reach the altar. He hesitates just for a moment, his thumb brushing over my knuckles like he wants to say something. Like he’s waiting for me to bolt.

“Take care of my daughter,” he says instead, voice composed but eyes sharp as he looks at Matthew. A warning. A test.

Matthew nods, smiling like it’s all a formality. Like my father’s words don’t actually mean anything.

My father sighs and releases me, stepping back as the priest clears his throat. The music fades, the murmurs settle. This is it.

“Dearly beloved,” the priest begins, his voice carrying through the chapel. “We are gathered here today?—”

Jade sways beside Mia, her face going a ghastly shade of puce. “I don’t know if it’s the guilt or the tequila…”

Before anyone can react, she doubles over and vomits spectacularly on the pristine white runner.

Gasps ripple through the church. My mother makes a strangled sound of horror. Matthew’s grip tightens in mine, but I barely feel it.

Jade wipes her mouth, grimacing. Straightening, she takes a breath and looks directly at me. “Well. Since I already ruined the wedding... might as well finish the job.”

Mia stiffens beside her. “Jade you’re still drunk?—”

“Don’t marry him, Ava,” Jade says, voice certain now. “He’s been screwing Mia.”

Time fractures.

Zoe’s bouquet slips from her fingers, landing with a soft thud. "Excuse me?" Her voice is eerily calm, but her entire body tenses, like a coil about to snap. She turns to Mia.

Mia takes a step back, hands raised. “Zoe, I?—”

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