A Quiet Departure
The morning after the disastrous wedding, the air in Jessica's family home was thick with the weight of what could have been. Sunlight streamed through the windows, too bright, too normal, as if the world hadn't shattered just hours before.
Percy moved through the guest room with quiet efficiency, folding clothes with more care than necessary, his mind replaying the moment Jessica had fled—the way her veil had torn, the gasps of the crowd, the terrible silence afterward. His chest ached, but he swallowed it down. Now wasn't the time.
Mrs. Rachel watched her son from the doorway, her expression unreadable. "We should leave before noon," she said softly. "Give them space."
Percy nodded, not trusting his voice.
Downstairs, Jessica stood by the front door, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked exhausted, her eyes still faintly red-rimmed, but her chin was lifted. The same stubborn resolve that had carried her down the aisle—and then away from it—burned quietly in her gaze.
"Thank you for coming," she said, her voice steady but hollow.
Mrs. Rachel pulled her into a fierce embrace. "Oh, sweetheart. You did the right thing. Never let anyone make you doubt that."
Jessica's breath hitched, just for a second, before she nodded against Mrs. Rachel's shoulder.
Percy hesitated at the foot of the stairs, his fingers tightening around the strap of his duffel bag. What could he even say? I'm sorry? I wish it had been me instead? None of it mattered now.
So he stepped forward, meeting Jessica's eyes for the first time since the chaos of yesterday. The unspoken words between them hung heavy, but all he managed was a quiet, "Take care, Jessica."
Something flickered in her expression—regret? Relief?—before she murmured, "You too, Percy."
And just like that, it was over.
The Car Ride Home
The highway stretched ahead, endless and monotonous. Percy leaned his forehead against the window, watching the trees blur into a green smear. The silence in the car was thick, but not uncomfortable. His mother had always understood when to let him stew.
After an hour, she finally spoke.
"What's on your mind?"
Percy exhaled, long and slow. "Just thinking about how… public it all was. A runaway bride isn't just something that happens to her. It's a spectacle. Everyone's got an opinion now."
Mrs. Rachel's grip on the steering wheel loosened slightly. "People will talk no matter what. What matters is that Jessica chose herself. That takes courage."
Percy smirked, though it lacked any real humor. "Yeah, well. Hope she's ready for the fallout."
A pause. Then, carefully—
"Why didn't you go after her?"
The question hung in the air. Percy's throat tightened.
"Would've made it worse," he muttered. "Last thing she needed was people whispering that I was the reason she ran."
His mother hummed. "Hmm. So you stayed away for her sake?"
"And mine," Percy admitted, rubbing his temples. "I'm not a saint, Ma. If I'd gone to her, I would've said something stupid. Something selfish."
Mrs. Rachel's lips quirked. "Sounds like you've grown up after all."
Percy groaned, slumping in his seat. "Don't start."
She chuckled, but her voice softened. "You'll see her again."
"Maybe." Percy closed his eyes. "But not until she's ready."
The car hummed on, carrying them toward home—and whatever came next.
The Aftermath at Jessica's House
The house felt like a tomb.
Josh moved through the wreckage of the wedding with heavy steps, his stomach churning. Half-empty champagne glasses sat abandoned on tables. A stray bouquet of lilies wilted in the corner.
And then—Jessica. Standing at the foot of the stairs, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable.
"Jess," he started, voice rough. "I'm sorry. I was drunk, I didn't—"
She didn't let him finish. Without a word, she turned and walked upstairs, her bedroom door clicking shut behind her. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Josh stood there, fists clenched, shame curdling in his gut.
Annette appeared from the living room, her arms crossed. "You should go."
He swallowed hard. "I just want to explain—"
"There's nothing to explain," Annette said flatly. "You humiliated her. In front of everyone."
Josh's shoulders sagged. "I know."
A beat of silence. Then, grudgingly, Annette sighed. "Look. Go home. Tend to your farm. Maybe one day, you'll both move on."
Josh nodded, numb. "Tell her… tell her I'm sorry. Really."
Annette's expression didn't change. "I will."
As the front door closed behind him, the house seemed to exhale.
Pabling's Unexpected Kindness
Annette was clearing the last of the decorations when Pabling approached, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Hey," he said awkwardly. "About… everything."
Annette arched a brow. "Here to charge us for the ruined shots?"
Pabling winced. "No. Actually, Percy called me. All the expenses—photography, drinks, everything—it's covered."
Annette froze. "What?"
He shrugged. "Consider it a favor."
For the first time all day, Annette's stern mask cracked. "That's… incredibly generous."
Pabling smirked. "Yeah, well. Don't let it get around. Ruins my reputation."
Annette huffed a laugh, then hesitated. "Thank you. Really."
He nodded, glancing toward the stairs. "She gonna be okay?"
Annette followed his gaze. "Eventually."
A Night of Words and Healing
Percy's bedroom was too quiet.
He lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the day replaying behind his eyelids like a broken film reel. Jessica running. The gasps. The way her hands had trembled when she'd thanked him earlier.
His phone buzzed. A message from Uncle Ted:
"Heard what happened. You alright?"
Percy typed back: "Yeah. Just… complicated."
A pause. Then: "She'll come around. Give her time."
Percy sighed. Time. Right.
His laptop sat on the nightstand, taunting him. Before he could overthink it, he grabbed it and opened a blank document.
The words spilled out before he could stop them.
The Prose
"Life has a way of unraveling the plans we so carefully weave. One moment, everything makes sense—the path ahead clear, the future bright.
The next, the threads tangle, and we're left holding fragments of what could have been. But uncertainty isn't the enemy. It's the space between what we thought we wanted and what we're meant to find.
It's the pause before the next note in the song, the breath before the next step. There is a time for sadness. A time to let the heart ache, to acknowledge the weight of what's been lost. And then, there is a time for healing. A time to gather the pieces, not to rebuild what was broken, but to create something new.
I don't know what the future holds. But I know this—you are stronger than the storm. And whatever comes next, you won't face it alone."
He read it over. Deleted it. Rewrote it.
Then, before he could chicken out, he sent it.
Jessica's Response
Jessica's phone lit up in the dark.
She almost ignored it. Almost.
But then she saw Percy's name.
Her breath caught as she read his words—raw, honest, kind. No expectations. No pressure. Just… understanding.
Tears pricked her eyes. For the first time since the wedding, she didn't feel so alone.
Her reply was shaky but sure:
"Thank you. I can't think about love right now. But… I'd like to be friends. If that's okay."
The response came instantly:
"Friends is perfect. I'll be here when you're ready."
Jessica exhaled, pressing the phone to her chest.
Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.
A New Dawn
The next morning, sunlight spilled across Jessica's bed, warm and forgiving.
She sat up, her mind made up.
Downstairs, her mother and Annette sipped coffee in silence.
"I'm going to see Uncle Ted today," Jessica announced.
Her mother frowned. "Sweetheart, you don't have to—"
"I need to." Jessica's voice was firm. "There's something I have to ask him."
Annette studied her, then nodded. "We'll be here."
At Uncle Ted's House
The porch creaked under her feet, familiar as childhood.
Uncle Ted opened the door, his gruff expression softening. "Jessica."
They settled in his living room, the scent of coffee and old books wrapping around her like a blanket.
Jessica took a deep breath. "Percy's… different, isn't he?"
Uncle Ted chuckled. "Stubborn. But his heart's always in the right place."
She twisted her hands in her lap. "I think… I need to leave. Just for a while. The city, maybe."
Uncle Ted studied her. "Running won't fix it, girl. But if you need to go, I'll look after your family."
Jessica exhaled, the weight on her chest easing.
For the first time in days, the future didn't seem so terrifying.