She stood there for a moment, in the parking lot, not entering, not moving. She didn't cry and she wasn't going to, but her throat burned and her vision was blurry. She touched her fingers to her hair, perfectly braided with little white lilies intertwine between the strands of her hair. Her mother had always told her that she had delicate hands, the type perfect for soothing people and perfect for playing the piano. She hadn't believed her mother then and she didn't believe her mother now.
Her hands moved down to smooth her veil, the same one her grandmother had worn. She threw her shoulders back and kept her head held high, listening as he explained. It occurred to her that they were in public, that anyone would be able to hear him. She knew that on the other side of him, across the parking lot and the gardens, there were a hundred people waiting for them. It occurred to them that she might be the one who would have to break the news.
She blinked. He had asked her a question. What had he asked her?
"Who" she questioned him, ignoring his question. He looked at her blanching.
"Please, like you weren't cheating too."
"I wasn't." She replied honestly.
She could remember her first date with him. He had been charming and smart. He had been a ballet dancer. She loved ballet. He was perfect. All of her friends said it was bad to date a dancer. They had no free time. All of his friends told her the same thing. They had said they were trying to protect her, because dancers only dated dancers. It was easier that way. She had ignored them. Eventually she had gotten to spend time with him when he was practicing. She didn't disturb him, just studied in the corner or watched, enraptured by his movements.
She was in love. She didn't mind the missed dates, because it was his job and she understood. She was going into the same type of demanding career. It didn't matter that she went to all his opening performances and he never even showed up to the dates she planned. Her friends complained, saying that he had a busier schedule than she did, what with her career and finishing up her masters so she could get her PHD. She ignored them.
"Who?"
"Dani."
Dani was the other principle dancer. In a way, she should have seen it coming. She should have known. He spent every day with Dani, practicing. And she had never complained or gotten jealous. She had been the perfect girlfriend, supportive, there for him, understanding. He couldn't say that she didn't get it, that this was his everything, because she knew it. She felt it every single time she entered the New York Library or finished a research paper. The things they loved were difficult to accomplish, but they were worth it. She had though their relationship was important too.
She knew Dani. She had asked Dani to be one of her bridesmaids, only to be turned down because of a conflict. He had told her so many stories about Dani. They had lived together as roommates for a time. God, she should have known.
And the worst part, she had almost given up on the relationship, on him, when he proposed. She had been so careful her entire life. She ran at the slightest hint of insecurity, she'd run from relationships if they mentioned love too soon. Then, the man that she'd stayed for, the only boy she'd ever given her whole heart to, left her?
Her mother had always told her, when a man cheats or messes up, you have two choices. Run away as fast as you can or stay and try to fix it and never give him more than two chances. But she had already given him his two chances. And this time she didn't have two choices. She only had one.
She unclenched her fists and wondered how he could do something like this. After she'd put all her trust in him.
"Why?" She didn't expect an answer. She didn't want to know the answer, not really. But she had to know it, because if she didn't, she would spend the rest of her life wondering. What was so wrong with her? Yes, she was cracked and broken and when he had met her, she had been terrified of committing to a relationship. He had changed that. She had invested everything in this relationship and what had she gotten out of it?
"I love her."
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"More than you loved me, right?" She asked, trying to pull on her brave face, trying to stall.
"No, I just love her differently."
"Right." She paused and took in the man that she had thought she was going to marry. She looked down at the gown she wore. This was what had become of the wedding that she had dreamed of since she was a little girl. "You can tell everybody. I'm leaving."
"Where?" He asked, sounding more concerned than he had a right to. She shrugged.
"The honeymoon. Then maybe I'll see if they still have that position open for me in London. I've always hated NYC." He looked down. She thought bitterly that she hadn't taken that job for him. She had given up a lot for him, but she wouldn't be giving up anything else. "I really hope you're happy, honestly. I wish you the best."
"You too." And with that, she kissed his cheek and walked out of his life forever.
