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“I’m glad that you think so. Would you maybe want to catch up sometime? Maybe over coffee?”
Oozing confidence at his words, the question just slipped out. When I saw the expression on his face, I instantly regretted it. He rubbed the back of his neck before clearing his throat.
“I’m not sure how my wife would feel about me having coffee with my ex.”
I had made the fatal mistake of not checking his hand. As I looked down, I saw the glint of the silver band on his ring finger, gleaming boldly as though to taunt me for my error. Now my face was flushed from sheer embarrassment.
“Talking of which,” he continued, oblivious to my current condition, “Here she is. There’s no need to introduce you.”
At that moment, I wished nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow me whole as I watched ditzy Brittany waltz over to us. With horror, I watched as Drew slipped an arm around her waist while she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. My stomach churned at the sight, and I had to look away for a moment.
“I’ve just heard the good news,” I tried my best to smile, “So, you’re no longer Brittany Meadows?”
She held her finger up, the diamond engagement ring glinting just above the shining wedding band. If I felt bad before, I was beyond nauseous seeing the evidence. When I looked past the smile on her face, I realized it was her intention all along to let me go in, blind-sighted by her marriage to my former sweetheart. It was at this point; I knew that I wasn’t welcome at our ten-year reunion any more than I was welcome at high school when I attended. No matter how successful I was or how I dressed, I would never be accepted.
So, why was I here?
“Well, congratulations to the both of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a career to get back to. It was nice seeing you.”
It wasn’t.
Turning, I left them behind, left the hall filled with people I didn’t care for and went back outside. I was lucky to find a cab just as another couple was arriving. I was glad to be driving away from that place, no longer viewing the sight of all the happily married people milling around from my unpopular childhood. After walking through my front door, I pulled the pins I had stressed over for so long from my hair, letting the loose strands tumble down my shoulders. I kicked off the painfully tight stilettos and loosened my ridiculously expensive gown, which pooled on the floor around me. Stepping out of it, I left the mass of material where it was and made my way to the kitchen, half-nude, as I poured myself a large glass of wine. Taking a gulp, I then found myself in the study, powering up my laptop to finish and submit my article for the column.
How befitting my April piece on the theme of perseverance featured two high school sweethearts. I guess some are just destined for a happily ever after…
