No Umbrella For The Bride

Summary

Before heading out to pick up my wedding dress, I casually asked Caleb:

"Is it going to rain today?"

He glanced at his phone, his tone completely certain.

"No."

So, I left my umbrella by the front door.

By late afternoon, a torrential downpour swallowed Chicago.

When I rushed through the front door, drenched to the bone and cradling the soaked garment bag against my chest, Caleb was in the shower.

His phone lit up on the coffee table.

A weather alert flashed across the lock screen:

"Temperatures dropping in Savannah tonight. Stay warm."

Savannah was where his ex lived.