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ChapterOne
Siobhan
Eighteen to twenty-four months.
All bridal magazines insist that a bride should organize a wedding within that time frame.
I did.
According to my bridal planner I created two years ago, today I should have a light breakfast.
I’m not.
Instead, I’m eating wafer cookies dipped in chocolate chip lavender-flavored ice cream.
The next item on the agenda is practicing the vows I’ll say during the wedding.
Not today.
Today I’m reading articles on how to move on and move forward. Earlier, I drafted a post on Reddit where I talked about my pathetic life.I thought better of it and just deleted it. The jilted brides subreddit is more depressing than… well running out of chocolate or ice cream.
Did I write the vows according to the deadline?
No, I thought about writing a book called The Ways I Hate You but since I don’t have the bandwidth for nonsense, I refuse to give this wedding fiasco a second thought. At least, on that day, I did. Today, I’m reconsidering it.
Move on, Siobhan. It’s over.
It is over.
My plan to stop wallowing in self-pity is to figure out how to overcome the bitterness and sadness. The person I loved the most, the one I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with is gone.
Gone.
Experiencing loss is heart wrenching. He knew I had trouble handling that, yet he did that exact thing to me. And he left by choice.
At first, I was in complete shock. Now, I’m just trying to get over the worst rejection of my life. I don’t miss him—I don’t love him. Did I ever love him if it’s this easy to move on?
I’m over Roland Seymour.
He can enjoy his new life in Atlanta with his new beautiful Southern Belle wife, his minivan, and his two-point-six children. Okay, I have no idea if he has a family with that woman, but it doesn’t matter.
I’m over the cheating bastard.
Over.
Him.
But how do I let go of the anger?
When I come to an article about letting go of the toxic people in your life, I feel like I might’ve struck gold. I begin to research this award-winning, best-selling author when I stumble upon his website. He’s an influencer whose entire career focuses on relationships. And the man is expensive.
“Would you pay a guy ten thousand dollars to give you relationship advice?”
Nydia, my best friend and roommate, turns her attention from her yoga mat toward me. “Is he going to find me a husband who cooks, cleans the house, does laundry, and has a sexy voice that he’ll use to read me romance books at night?”
“I said relationship advice. He won’t build you a custom-made robot or a miracle.”
I stare at the soulful dark eyes of Nando. The picture they added to this article makes him look like the definition of trustworthy. He is also cute, maybe hot. I could use a guy like him to at least give me a night to forget this unplanned turn of events in my life.
