Chapter 6 The Vows and The Void

# Chapter 6 — The Vows and The Void

The garden had transformed since morning—white chairs in perfect rows, an aisle carpeted with rose petals, and an arch draped with cascading flowers where Caleb would soon pledge himself to Rowan. Guests filtered in, murmuring appreciatively at the elegant setting. I slipped into a seat in the back row, hoping to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

My mother spotted me immediately. She made her way over, her smile tight and warning.

"You came," she said, smoothing her lavender dress. "I wasn't sure you would after that scene in the group chat."

"I said I would," I replied evenly. "I always keep my promises."

Unlike some people, I thought bitterly.

She glanced around before leaning closer. "Just behave yourself, Hazel. This is Rowan's day."

"Don't worry, Mother," I said with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "I'm just here to witness true love."

She gave me a searching look before returning to her seat in the front row. As she walked away, Toby slid into the empty chair beside me.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he observed quietly.

"More like I've seen the truth," I replied. "Did you know about their plan? The emails between Caleb and Rowan?"

Toby's expression darkened. "Not the specifics, but I suspected something. Rowan has always been... strategic."

"That's one word for it," I muttered.

The string quartet began playing, signaling the ceremony was about to begin. Guests settled into their seats, programs rustling, phones silenced. I watched as Caleb took his place at the altar, handsome in his tuxedo but visibly tense. Our eyes met briefly across the garden, and I saw a flash of what might have been regret before he looked away.

The bridesmaids processed down the aisle in matching champagne gowns, followed by a flower girl scattering petals. Then the music changed to the traditional wedding march, and everyone stood.

Rowan appeared on her father's arm, radiant in a gown that seemed designed to awe—layers of delicate lace over silk, a cathedral-length veil catching the afternoon light. She was beautiful, undeniably so, and for a moment I felt a pang of something like grief. Not for losing Caleb, but for the sister relationship we might have had in another life.

As she reached the altar, her father kissed her cheek and placed her hand in Caleb's. They turned to face the officiant, a kindly-looking older man who welcomed the guests with practiced warmth.

"Friends and family, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Rowan Elizabeth and Caleb James..."

I tuned out his words, focusing instead on the couple before him. Rowan was beaming, triumphant. Caleb's smile seemed fixed in place, his posture rigid.

Toby leaned close to whisper, "Are you okay?"

I nodded slightly. "I'm fine. This is... clarifying, actually."

The ceremony proceeded with traditional readings and a song performed by Rowan's cousin. Then came time for the vows. Rowan went first, her voice clear and steady as she promised to love, honor, and cherish Caleb. Standard vows, beautifully delivered, though I noticed she emphasized "in sickness and in health" with a subtle glance in my direction.

Then it was Caleb's turn. He cleared his throat and reached into his jacket, pulling out a folded paper.

"I've prepared something," he said, his voice carrying across the garden. "Words that express what's truly in my heart."

Rowan smiled encouragingly, though I detected a flicker of surprise in her eyes. This wasn't part of the rehearsal.

Caleb unfolded the paper, took a deep breath, and began to read:

"I remember the first time I saw you. It was raining, and you were laughing, your head thrown back in pure joy despite the weather. I thought then that I'd never seen anyone so beautiful, so alive. You had this way of making the world brighter just by existing in it."

Rowan's smile widened, but something in Caleb's voice made me sit straighter. These words sounded familiar.

"You taught me to see beauty in small things," he continued. "The way morning light filters through curtains. The perfect symmetry of a leaf. The comfortable silence between two people who need no words."

My heart stopped. These weren't vows he'd written for Rowan. These were words from a letter I'd written to him on our first anniversary.

"When I'm with you, I'm the best version of myself. When I'm without you, I'm just waiting to return. You are my home, my heart, my truth."

A murmur rippled through the guests. Rowan's smile had frozen in place, confusion and then dawning horror spreading across her features.

"Every day I choose you," Caleb read, his voice strengthening. "Not because I have to, but because I want to. Because loving you is the easiest, most natural thing I've ever done."

My letter. He was reading my letter to him, word for word, as his vows to Rowan.

Judith stood halfway from her seat, her expression alarmed. Rowan's father frowned deeply. And Toby—Toby was watching it all with an unreadable expression.

"I promise to love you without condition," Caleb continued, seemingly oblivious to the growing tension. "To support your dreams as fervently as my own. To remember, always, that we are a team, facing life together."

Rowan's face had drained of color. She tugged at Caleb's sleeve, whispering something urgent, but he continued as if he hadn't noticed.

"You are the love I never expected, but always hoped for. The answer to questions I hadn't even thought to ask."

"Caleb," Rowan hissed, loud enough now that the front rows could hear. "Stop it."

He looked up from the paper, his expression innocently confused. "Is something wrong?"

"Those aren't your vows to me," she said, her voice tight with barely controlled rage.

"Of course they are," he replied. "These are the words in my heart."

The officiant cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Perhaps we should take a brief moment—"

"No," Rowan cut him off. "I want to know where those words came from." She turned back to Caleb, her eyes flashing. "Because they're not yours."

Caleb blinked, the picture of bewilderment. "I wrote them myself."

"Liar!" Rowan's voice rose sharply. "Those are Hazel's words. I've seen that letter in your drawer."

A collective gasp went up from the guests. All heads turned toward me, and I felt my face flush with unwanted attention. This was exactly what Caleb had planned—a public scene that would force Rowan to end the wedding herself. And he'd used my private words to create it.

"Rowan," Caleb said, reaching for her hand. She jerked away. "I can explain—"

"Explain what?" she demanded. "That you're still in love with her? That this whole wedding is a sham?"

"That's not—"

"I heard you last night," she said, her voice cracking. "On the phone with her. 'I still love you, I've never stopped loving you,'" she mimicked cruelly. "Was any of this real to you? Or was I just a convenient way to stay close to her?"

The guests were riveted now, witnessing what had transformed from a wedding into a spectacle. My mother was on her feet, moving toward the altar with clear intent to intervene.

"You will never have her!" Rowan suddenly shouted, pointing at me. "Never! Do you hear me? She doesn't want you! She left you!"

Her face was contorted with rage and pain, a lifetime of resentment boiling over in this most public of moments. She took a step back, stumbling slightly on her train.

"Rowan, careful—" Caleb reached for her.

But she was beyond hearing. As she continued backing away, her heel caught in her dress. She wobbled, arms pinwheeling, and then—to my horror—she missed the step behind her and fell backward down the short flight of garden stairs.

The collective gasp was immediate. Guests surged forward as Rowan lay crumpled at the bottom of the steps, her white dress fanned around her like broken wings. Caleb was the first to reach her, kneeling beside her still form.

"Someone call an ambulance!" he shouted.

Everything happened in a blur after that. Paramedics arrived with surprising speed—later I would learn they were already on standby, a precaution for the elderly guests. Rowan was conscious but disoriented, her responses confused. Possible concussion, I heard someone say. They immobilized her neck and loaded her carefully onto a stretcher.

As they prepared to transport her, she caught sight of me standing at the edge of the crowd. For a moment, her expression cleared, and she looked at me with perfect lucidity.

"This isn't over," she whispered as they carried her past. "He'll never be yours."

Then her eyes rolled back, and she went limp.

The wedding guests dispersed in shocked clusters, exclaiming over what they'd witnessed. My mother went with Rowan in the ambulance, shooting me an accusatory glare as she left. Caleb stood alone by the altar, looking shell-shocked, the folded letter still clutched in his hand.

I couldn't bear to speak to him. Couldn't bear to hear whatever justification he might offer for using my most intimate words as weapons in his scheme. I turned and walked away from the garden, away from the chaos, heading toward the hotel entrance.

"Hazel, wait," Caleb called after me. I kept walking.

Outside the hotel, the afternoon sun was beginning to soften toward evening. I stood on the steps, breathing deeply, trying to process everything that had happened. The revelation of Rowan's long-held grudge. Caleb's manipulative plan. The public humiliation. And now Rowan's injury—a dramatic conclusion to a day already filled with drama.

"I thought I might find you out here."

I turned to see Toby approaching, his expression somber.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

"As soon as possible," I confirmed. "I've had enough of this... whatever this is."

He nodded slowly. "I don't blame you. But before you go, I think there's something you should know."

"If it's about Caleb or Rowan, I really don't want to hear it," I said wearily.

"It's about all of us," he replied. "About the past, and how it led to today." He hesitated, then added, "I guess you're starting to understand the truth."

Something in his tone made me look at him more closely. There was knowledge in his eyes—a deeper understanding of the situation than he'd previously revealed.

"What do you mean?" I asked cautiously.

He glanced back at the hotel, where guests were still milling about in confused groups. "Not here," he said quietly. "Let me buy you a coffee somewhere else. There's a whole story you haven't heard yet."

I hesitated, exhausted by revelations and betrayals. But Toby's steady gaze held no manipulation, no hidden agenda that I could detect.

"Okay," I finally agreed. "But make it quick. I have a train to catch."

As we walked away from the hotel, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't the end of the story—that beneath Rowan's revenge and Caleb's manipulation lay deeper currents I had yet to discover.

And I was right. Because as I would soon learn, Rowan wasn't the only one playing a part in this elaborate drama.

She was just the most obvious.