Fade Into You: a love story

Chapter One: Jessica

"He's not coming, is he?"

The last church bells had rung in the hour. From where we stood, we had a perfect view of the guests, fanning themselves against the heavy summer heat. He'd been the one who wanted a church wedding. I'd have been satisfied with the justice of the peace at City Hall, but he'd insisted. Now I was the one left in the lurch.

Håkan shook his head no. He could barely make eye contact with me and the air between us was strained and taut. "I don't know what to say, Jess. I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," I cut him off before he got too far in his apology. This wasn't his fault. He wasn't the one who'd cajoled me into falling head over heels in love, he wasn't the one

who'd convinced me to put my faith in a silly little fling and and swear it was different from anything else. If anything, Håkan had tried to warm me not to jump so quickly. He'd told me the first time we met that Anton never followed through, that Anton took what he wanted and then got bored and cast it aside. I was the stupid, stupid girl who hadn't believed him. I'd fallen for the wrong guy.

"I didn't think he would do this to you," Håkan admitted. "I thought this time would be different."

"He's done this before?" I scoffed. How many other women had he left at the alter? Oh, sweet Jesus, how blind had I been?

"He never asked anyone to marry him before," Håkan said as he undid his tie. He glanced at me as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I didn't think he'd back out. He kept telling me you were the one."

In the church, the murmurs echoing concerns filled the air. I heard snippets wondering if one of us was ill, if the driver was late. God, one of us would have to go in there and break the news.

"Will you tell them?" I didn't want to go out there in this horribly expensive dress, the one he'd convinced me to buy because he said it made me look like a princess. He'd smiled as he said it, and he'd sworn I'd never been more beautiful. Oh God, I didn't want to cry now. "I can't go out there, Håkan."

He let out a resigned sigh. How many of Anton's messes had he cleaned up in the past?

Even I had started off as one of his messes--the girl he'd forgotten he had a blind date with, so he sent Håkan in his place. But Håkan was too nice, too honest to try to fool me.

He'd confessed to being a stand-in from the moment he approached me as I stood waiting at Gamla Stan's subway station exit. A smarter girl would have chosen Håkan.

"I'll take care of it," he said. "And then we'll get out of here."

He pushed open the door and entered the nave. I waited, the voices hushed as everyone watched him walk down the aisle. Someone dared to call out, "Where's Anton?" but he pretended not to hear and continued until he was at the altar.

He whispered to the stern-looking priest, then turned to the guests. They were all Anton's friends and family. I had no one. Not here anyway.

"There's not going to be a wedding," Håkan said without preamble. "Anton fucked Jessica over. If you see him, you can tell him he's a fucking asshole for doing this to her."