The name Olivia stirs some­thing deep with­in Jules, an instinc­tu­al dread she can’t quite shake. Olivia had been act­ing strange­ly all evening, and though Jules had dis­missed it as wed­ding-day stress, her absence with Will now feels cal­cu­lat­ed, delib­er­ate. She steps out­side the mar­quee, expect­ing to find them near­by, but instead, she is met with a group of smok­ers from their uni­ver­si­ty days, caught up in laugh­ter and casu­al con­ver­sa­tion. Their indif­fer­ence irri­tates her, their respons­es clipped and unin­ter­est­ed as if her con­cern is an over­re­ac­tion. How could they not see that some­thing was wrong? The feel­ing of iso­la­tion gnaws at her, tight­en­ing her chest as she real­izes that, despite the grandeur of the occa­sion, she feels com­plete­ly and utter­ly alone.

Deter­mined to find her hus­band, Jules push­es for­ward, her heels sink­ing slight­ly into the damp grass as she moves away from the warmth and glow of the cel­e­bra­tion. The fairy-tale moment she had imagined—her per­fect wed­ding night—now feels dis­tant, fad­ing like an illu­sion she had fool­ish­ly believed in. Instead of bask­ing in the romance of her new­ly­wed evening, she is wan­der­ing through the dark, search­ing for a hus­band who should be by her side. Each step feels heav­ier, her thoughts rac­ing with pos­si­bil­i­ties she doesn’t want to con­sid­er. What if Will had will­ing­ly left with Olivia? What if he wasn’t miss­ing but delib­er­ate­ly avoid­ing her? A sick feel­ing twists in her stom­ach as she real­izes how lit­tle she tru­ly knows about what he is capa­ble of.

The night takes on an eerie still­ness as she dis­tances her­self from the noisy recep­tion, her sur­round­ings dark and unfa­mil­iar. The twin­kling lights and flo­ral arrange­ments feel like rem­nants of a dream that no longer belongs to her. She had spent months per­fect­ing every detail of this wed­ding, ensur­ing every moment would be flaw­less, yet here she was, chas­ing after a hus­band who had van­ished with­out a word. The irony stings, a cru­el reminder that no amount of plan­ning can con­trol the unex­pect­ed. The guests con­tin­ue to cel­e­brate, obliv­i­ous to the fact that the bride is unrav­el­ing, her dream slip­ping fur­ther from her grasp with each pass­ing moment. She clench­es her fists, deter­mined not to let the night col­lapse into dis­as­ter, but the truth is already set­tling in—something is very, very wrong.

Pan­ic begins to set in as Jules retraces her steps, mov­ing back toward the mar­quee with renewed urgency. She needs answers, but no one around her seems to care enough to pro­vide them. Every­one is caught up in their own indul­gences, their own escapes, treat­ing the wed­ding as if it is just anoth­er extrav­a­gant par­ty. The real­iza­tion leaves her feel­ing hol­low, her frus­tra­tion turn­ing into anger. She had craft­ed this night with pre­ci­sion, mak­ing sure every detail was perfect—so why did it feel like she was the only one who cared? The thought is suf­fo­cat­ing, wrap­ping around her like a weight she can’t shake.

As she stops for a moment, catch­ing her breath, an unset­tling thought creeps into her mind: What if she doesn’t find Will? And, per­haps even worse, what if she does? The weight of that ques­tion lingers, heav­ier than any­thing else. She knows, deep down, that what­ev­er she dis­cov­ers will change every­thing, that the illu­sion of her per­fect wed­ding is already crack­ing beyond repair. The night is no longer a cel­e­bra­tion; it has become a mys­tery wait­ing to unfold, and Jules is ter­ri­fied of what she will uncov­er.