Except for Kimberly, that is. My best friend who I would be lost without.
I met her three years ago at one of Nathan’s company galas, and the two of us became fast friends over our mutual love of fine art and iced matcha lattes. She was a Type-A, high-powered lawyer on the fast track to make partner like Nathan, and I was a struggling artist with a dream and no concrete plan—but somehow, it just worked.
Today, she’s going to be at the end of that aisle, waiting for me with a smile and a tear in her eye. She’s going to be my strength. My light when I feel so damn gloomy.
If only I knew where she ran off to…
I hoist my dress up higher, wishing I had my cell phone so I could call her and ask for her help. I know she’d come running if I could get a hold of her for my last-minute, unsanctioned pee, but she excused herself from the dressing room thirty minutes ago, and without my phone, I have no way to find her or get in touch.
“This is why wedding dresses need pockets,” I murmur.
The other bridesmaids that Idohave—Nathan’s three teenage cousins—hate my guts for no reason. Like the rest of the Turners, they despised me as soon as I rolled up to their family home and parked my used Honda next to Mr. Turner’s Rolls Royce. Sarah, Darla, and Josie are probably too busy whispering mean-spirited insults about me to each other to notice I need assistance. And it’s probably for the best.
Hopefully I’ll find Kim in the bathroom. She’ll be able to cheer me up.
Sighing, I turn the corner, working to shove all my negative feelings into that little box deep in my soul. Recently, it seems like there’s less and less space there. Like it’s at capacity, and fit to burst.
But I can’t worry about that now. I need to focus on my impending wedding. Happy thoughts. Like… the way Nathan will look when he sees me walking down the aisle.
I doubt he’ll cry—Nathan never does—but I just know his eyes will fill with pride and love, and it will be a beautiful moment neither of us will forget.
The voice in the back of my mind screaming that I’m making a horrible mistake is just a figment of my imagination. I want toget married to Nathan. I love Nathan. All of this is just normal, pre-wedding jitters.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself so I’m able to go through with this.
Finally arriving at the women’s bathroom stall, I push the door and step inside, my heels clicking softly as I make my way toward the stall—but then I hear it. A sound that makes me freeze.
Slap… slap… slap…
The pit of dread in my stomach deepens, and I’m overcome with the need to vomit as I try to stuff the lid of the box closed. Only, I fear it’s far too late.
I cover my mouth, holding my breath so I don’t interrupt the two people clearly having sex.It’s not him,my mind lies.He would never do this to you.
“Oh yeah. Fuck, you’re so tight, Kim.”
My knees buckle.
“I’m coming, Nate! I’m coming!”
Oh my God, no… It can’t be…
The blood drains from my face as I step slowly toward the bathroom stall, unable to believe it, needing to see it to confirm that my worst fears are true. The stall is unlocked, open just a crack, allowing me to see inside, and I peer in shamelessly. And…ohGod…
There, sitting on a toilet seat with his dick inside my best friend, is my fiancé.
In the throes of ecstasy, Nathan’s eyes open wide, and they meet mine through the space, widening ever so slightly with recognition.
“Fuck,” I whisper, backing away from the door now that I’m caught. Unfortunately, I’m so shaken by what I just witnessed, I misplace my step, and my heel wobbles, sending me off-balance and tumbling to the floor.
“Holy shit! Willow?” Nathan’s voice echoes off the bathroom walls, filled with panic. “Willow, is that you out there?”
I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, red-hot betrayal running through my veins and making my head pound. I try to push myself off the floor, but my legs are shaking too hard, and I end up right back where I started.
Nathan and Kim stumble out of the bathroom stall in various states of undress, Kim’s red lipstick smeared across my fiancé’s cheek—damning them both.
“Willow, baby, it’s not what you think?—”
“Shut up,” I whisper, my voice cracking. I drop my eyes to the floor, unable to look at either of them as the weight of their betrayal threatens to choke me. “Just shut the hell up.”
