Chapter 2

This time he did turn, and the look of disbelief on his face cut right through me.

"Are you insane? There's someone about to commit suicide!"

"No, there isn't."

By now, cars were stopping. Wedding guests were getting out, creating a small crowd. I could hear murmurs, whispers. Someone was taking photos with their phone.

Sarah approached us, her face pale. "Emma, sweetheart, I don't understand. Why aren't you concerned?"

How do I explain? How do I tell her that this girl has been texting Jake for months? That I've seen the messages he deletes? That she works at the café where he gets coffee every Tuesday morning? That she's not suicidal—she's strategic?

"Because I know who she is," I said simply.

"Emma!" Jake's voice was sharp now, frustrated. "I don't care who she is! She's in crisis!"

Chloe called out from the bridge, her voice carrying perfectly in the afternoon air. "Please! Don't come any closer! I just... I can't..."

Her performance was flawless. The trembling voice, the tears, the way she was gripping the railing just tightly enough to look desperate but not actually in danger.

Jake took another step toward the bridge.

"That's it," I said. "Jake, if you take one more step toward her, the wedding is off."

Complete silence.

Everyone—Sarah, Kelly, the groomsmen, random strangers who'd stopped—stared at me in shock.

"Emma..." Sarah's voice was barely a whisper. "You don't mean that."

"I absolutely mean that."

Jake turned to face me fully now, and I saw something in his eyes I'd never seen before. Disgust.

"Who are you?" he said quietly. "Because the woman I fell in love with would never, NEVER, stand by and watch someone die."

And there it is. He's already chosen her. Maybe he doesn't even realize it yet, but look at him. Look at how he's positioned—facing me like I'm the threat, while she's the victim who needs saving.

"The woman you fell in love with has more sense than to fall for a performance," I replied.

"Performance?" Sarah stepped forward, her voice shaking. "Emma, that girl is in pain. Look at her!"

I did look. Chloe was watching this entire exchange with those perfect tears streaming down her cheeks. But I also noticed how she'd positioned herself—where every car had to see her, where Jake had the perfect angle to play hero, where the afternoon light made her look ethereal and tragic.

"Jake," Chloe called out, and my blood turned to ice.

She knew his name.

"Jake, please don't let them stop you! I don't have anyone else!"

Jake looked stricken. "How does she—Emma, how does she know my name?"

Before I could answer, Chloe sobbed louder.

"I'm sorry! I shouldn't have come here! But I had to see you one more time before... before..."

Sarah grabbed my hand. "Emma, please. Whatever's happening here, we can sort it out later. Right now, there's a life at stake."

Jake was already walking toward the bridge, his firefighter training overriding everything else.

"No." I said, but my voice cracked. "Jake, if you go to her, we're done."

He stopped, turned back one more time.

"Then we're done," he said quietly.

And then he started running toward the bridge.

There it is. When faced with a choice between me and her—even her fake crisis—he chose her. On our wedding day. In front of everyone we know. He chose her.

I watched my fiancé run toward another woman, and I knew that my life as I'd planned it had just ended.

Jake reached the bridge and started talking to Chloe in low, soothing tones.

I stood there watching Jake coax Chloe away from the railing, and gradually became aware of the whispers around me.

"Can you believe her?"

"On her own wedding day..."

"That poor girl almost died and she just stood there."

Kelly touched my shoulder. "Emma, maybe we should—"

"Should what?" I turned to her. "Should I go applaud his heroics?"

Sarah stepped between us, her face full of concern. "Sweetheart, you're in shock. This is traumatic for everyone, but—"

"But nothing, Sarah." I looked at my future mother-in-law—this woman who an hour ago had called me daughter. "That girl isn't suicidal. She's calculating."

"How can you possibly know that?" Sarah's voice rose slightly.

Because I've been watching her circle my husband for months. Because I've seen her conveniently show up at the fire station with cookies.

But I couldn't say any of that. Not here, not now, not with half the wedding party recording this on their phones.

"I just do."

Around us, more cars were stopping. Word was spreading through town—there was a situation at Old Mill Bridge.

Mrs. Patterson from the grocery store approached, her face worried. "Emma, dear, shouldn't you call her parents?"

"I don't think her parents need to be bothered," I replied evenly.

The look Mrs. Patterson gave me could have frozen water.

Sarah pulled me aside, away from the growing crowd of onlookers.

"Emma, I need you to help me understand," she said gently. "This isn't like you. You're one of the most compassionate people I know. You volunteer at the animal shelter, you stay late to help struggling students..."

Sarah. Sweet, trusting Sarah. She still believes the best in everyone, including me. She thinks this is some kind of wedding day nerves or temporary insanity. If only it were that simple.

"Sometimes compassion means not enabling bad behavior," I said.

"Bad behavior? Emma, she's clearly in emotional distress—"

"She's clearly putting on a show."

Sarah's face showed hurt now, and that cut deeper than anything. "I don't understand where this is coming from. Yesterday you were excited about the wedding, happy, glowing... Today you're..."

"Today I'm what?"

"Cold." The word hung between us. "I've never seen you like this, and it's frightening."

Cold. That's what she thinks of me now. This woman who was ready to welcome me as a daughter now thinks I'm cold. But what choice do I have? How do I explain without destroying her image of her son?

"Sometimes being cold is the only way to see clearly," I said quietly.

From where we stood, I could see Jake slowly approaching Chloe. His voice carried across the water—calm, professional, trained.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Chloe," she replied, her voice small and broken. Perfect victim tone.

"Okay, Chloe. I'm Jake. I'm a firefighter here in town. I want you to know that whatever you're going through, we can work through it together."

He's good at this. I have to give him that. He genuinely believes he's saving someone. He has no idea he's being manipulated by an expert.

"Everything hurts so much," Chloe sobbed. "I don't know what to do anymore."

"I understand. But this isn't the answer. There are people who care about you, people who want to help."

People around us were murmuring approval.

"Look at him," someone whispered. "Such a hero."

"That girl is lucky he was here."

And then, inevitably: "Shame about his fiancée though."