The tears I’d been holding back finally flowed, but they weren’t tears of joy. They were tears of pure, burning, destructive rage. My breathing became erratic again, but this time it wasn’t panic. It was the adrenaline of a wounded beast.
“Just a couple more hours, darling,” Vanessa said. “Then the honeymoon… which, by the way, it’s a shame you have to go with her to Bora Bora. It should be us.”
“I promise that as soon as I get back, I’ll run away with you for a weekend,” Jerry promised. “Now, kiss me again before I have to go play the role of a lifetime.”
There was silence, broken only by the sound of their ragged breaths. I sat there in the dark, my dream dress now a ridiculous costume. I could stay there, cry silently, let them leave, and then go out and cancel everything, claiming illness. I could run away. I could disappear.
But then, something shifted inside me. The pain gave way to a cold, sharp clarity. I stared at my reflection in the metal lock of the door. No, I wasn’t a victim. I wasn’t going to let them get away with it. I wasn’t going to let them laugh at me for another second.