“Could You Hold This Ring for One Minute?” She Asked a Stranger—Then the Bride Disappeared

“Mark.”

“Mark.”

He exhaled. “Ryan is my business partner.”

Betty stared. “What?”

“We started the company together.”

“How long?”

“Almost six years.”

Betty’s mouth fell open. “You’re his friend?”

“Yes.”

“You’re invited to the wedding?”

“Yes. My flight was delayed. I arrived late.”

Betty looked genuinely offended. “You let me think you were some random guest.”

“You never asked.”

“I handed you the wedding rings, which would have been an excellent time to ask.” Betty opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again. “You are unbelievable.”

“I’m also still holding the rings.”

“That is currently the only thing saving you.”

Then Mark’s expression changed. The humor disappeared, and Betty noticed immediately.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“That face.”

“What face?”

“The face people make right before they tell me something I’m not going to like.”

Mark went quiet, and suddenly Betty understood something else. Ryan hadn’t simply called Mark because Clare was missing. Mark had already known something was wrong.

“Ryan and Clare talked this morning, didn’t they?”

His silence answered first. Betty’s stomach tightened. “They fought.”

Mark finally nodded.

Betty stared at him. Clare had told her nothing. Not even when she’d handed Betty the rings. Whatever had happened that morning, Clare had hidden it from her best friend. And Mark knew what it was.

Betty’s voice became quiet. “What did they fight about?”

Mark kept driving. For the first time all afternoon, the calm stranger beside her didn’t seem to have an answer ready. And Betty realized that finding Clare might only be half the problem. Because whatever had made a bride drive away forty minutes before her wedding, Mark already knew exactly what it was.

Mark stayed quiet for another mile. Betty finally crossed her arms. “You know, I’m not going to stop asking.”

“I noticed.”

“So?”

Mark exhaled. “Austin.”

Betty frowned. “What about Austin?”

“Ryan’s company had been offered an opportunity to open a new office there. It was a major expansion—new clients, new market, possibly dozens of employees. Ryan would likely need to lead it.”

“For how long?”

“Maybe a year, maybe permanently.”

Betty stared at him. “And Clare knows?”

“She does now.”

That answer told her everything.

Mark explained. Ryan hadn’t accepted anything. A few weeks earlier, he’d flown to Austin to look at possible locations and meet potential clients. He wanted to understand whether the opportunity was real before bringing it home. Unfortunately, someone else mentioned the trip to Clare six days before the wedding.

Betty closed her eyes. “Oh, Ryan.”

“He wasn’t hiding an affair. I know he hadn’t made a decision.”

“That’s not the point.”

Mark glanced at her. “Then what is?”

Betty turned toward him. “You don’t secretly investigate moving two states away six days before marrying someone.”

“He was gathering information about their life. He didn’t want to worry her about something that might never happen.”

“And that’s exactly how you make someone worry.”

Mark went quiet. Betty noticed something. “You agree with him.”

“I understand him.”

“Same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Mark explained that sometimes it was better to bring someone a problem when you also had possible answers.

Betty almost laughed. “That’s how you run a company.”

“It works.”

“People aren’t companies.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you?”

Mark looked at her. Betty realized they weren’t really arguing about Ryan anymore. They were arguing about themselves. Mark believed uncertainty should be contained until it could be managed. Betty believed that if a decision could change someone else’s life, they deserved to be inside the uncertainty, too. Neither convinced the other, but for the first time, Betty became curious about why Mark thought that way.

Before she could ask, her phone rang. Diane. Betty answered. “Any news?”

“No, we’re checking another place.” Diane lowered her voice. “Your grandmother knows something.”

Betty frowned. “What?”

“Clare called her.”

“When?”

“Right before she left.”

Betty immediately asked for Grandma June. A moment later, June came on. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Clare called you?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t tell us?”

“She asked me not to.”

“Grandma, there are a hundred people waiting for her.”

“112.”

“That is not helping.”

June sighed. “She called me because she wanted someone who wasn’t organizing her feelings for her.”

Betty went silent. That sounded painfully like Clare. “What did she say?”

June hesitated, then gave Betty only one sentence. “Everyone keeps asking whether I’m ready to get married. Nobody asks whether Ryan is ready to build a marriage.”

Betty’s anger disappeared. This wasn’t about Austin. Not really. Clare wasn’t afraid Ryan would move her to Texas. She was afraid they were about to promise each other a life while one of them still believed the biggest decisions could be made alone.

Betty hung up. Mark had heard enough to understand.

“She isn’t running from Ryan,” he said.

Betty looked through the windshield. “No.” Then suddenly she knew. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“The farmhouse. You said we were going there next—not Grandma June’s current house, the old one.”

Clare had spent half her childhood there. Her grandfather had died years earlier, and June eventually moved closer to town. The old farmhouse was mostly empty now, waiting for the family to decide what to do with it. Whenever Clare’s parents fought when they were kids, Clare would disappear onto that porch. Whenever school became too much, whenever her first boyfriend broke her heart—the porch.

Betty looked at Mark. “That’s where she goes when she doesn’t want someone to fix her.”

Mark turned the SUV around. Twenty minutes later, they pulled onto a narrow gravel road. Betty saw the white farmhouse first, then the porch. Then—oh, thank God. Clare was sitting on the steps, still wearing her wedding dress, barefoot. A family-sized bag of potato chips rested beside her.

Betty jumped from the SUV. Clare looked up. “You found me.”

“You’re wearing a $6,000 wedding dress and eating barbecue chips.”

“I was hungry.”

Betty wanted to yell. Instead, she walked up the steps and sat beside her. For several seconds, neither spoke. Betty didn’t tell her everyone was waiting. Didn’t mention the flowers. Didn’t mention the ceremony. She simply reached into the bag. Clare slapped her hand.

“Those are mine.”

Betty laughed, and Clare finally smiled. Behind them, Mark started walking back toward the SUV.

“Wait.” Clare’s voice stopped him. She looked at him. “You’re Mark, right?”

Mark turned. Clare knew exactly who he was. Ryan’s closest business partner, possibly the one person who would know what Ryan hadn’t been willing to admit.

Clare asked quietly, “Did Ryan want Austin?”