THE MUSIC THAT rang through the beautifully-decorated hallways of the church was bright, bold, and shot through a dash of adrenaline in Alice's veins. Her grip on the bouquet of flowers tightened, her lips pinched together as she stayed straight ahead past the doors that had been flung right open.
All the guests that had been invited to the wedding had been seated. At the sound of the music that cued the entrance of the bride, paired with the noise made by the opening doors, they spun back to look, standing to their feet. At the center of the raised platform in front, at the end of the aisle, was Spade, Alice's groom.
Her hands, though wrapped in the lace of her gloves, had grown clammy and sweaty. The fabric did little to nothing in sweat absorption, not that she particularly cared for that detail. She could barely remember how to breathe, how to walk, and how not to trip over her insanely long dress that dragged behind her steps.
