Chapter 16

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I'm a morning person. Usually, I am the first person awake. But this morning, getting out of bed goes against every instinct I have to want to start my day. I can hear Stephanie and Michelle laughing and chatting on the other side of the door. My head pounds as I lay quietly, a single tear trickles down my cheek.

My bridesmaid dress hangs precisely where it needs to be – on a hook overhanging on the closet door – and something about having to attend the wedding today tears at the thin lining still holding me together. I am not ready to face Ben again.

It wasn't so much how Ben slept with Stephanie that bothered me. It was the way he purposely kept it from me, thinking it would be easier to lie to me than to come clean. How could I ever be with someone who wasn't truthful? Who hid things?

I don't think we could be the same after something like this. I'm so worried that when I see him today, watching me silently, and especially if he continues to try to talk me out of ending things, I'll fall back into his arms.

I listen to a trickle of hesitation – telling me to ditch out on the wedding and hop on the next flight – but I would never do that to Jessica.

Slowly, I sit up on the edge of the bed and run a hand through my hair. I feel a wave of humiliation just thinking about how stupid I was ever to think I was different to him. I knew he would break my heart. I practically begged him not to.

"Please don't break my heart, Ben."

"After everything we've been through, you don't trust me. Why do you think I'd break your heart? Do you think I'd want to hurt you?"

"I think you could, even if you didn't want to."

I replay our conversation in my mind. That was his opportunity to come clean, the moment he could have told me the truth. I believed he was ready for something real. Obviously he wasn't. 

I swallow back a tight, heavy lump in my throat, a sob I think escapes in a sharp gasp. The pain in my chest feels like little broken shards of glass are cutting me slowly, deeply.

I'm such an idiot.

But damn. So is he.

It takes so many long, painful seconds to get dressed finally. I'm prickling everywhere when I walk into the living area to see Stephanie and Michelle looking fresh and ready to head to the Spa to have our hair and makeup done. I feel hypersensitive and overheated, and I'm suddenly aware of how I must look – hair a mess and last night's makeup still smudged around my eyes.

"Megan?" Michelle asks, her eyes scanning from my face to my toes. "Are you that hungover?"

No. I'm heartbroken. That is what I want to say, but I don't. I only nod, not bothering to say anything more. I can't even bring myself to look at Stephanie.

Either they don't notice my lack of response or don't care because they pull open the front door and wave me to follow. I remind myself that today is Jessica and Michael's wedding day. And even if my heart has been torn in two, it's necessary to pull myself together, to smile, to forget about Ben.

The morning whips by in a blur of makeup applications, photos, wedding talk, champagne, and fancy hairstyles. I keep my head held high and a smile on my face. I'm present, but I'm not overly talkative or involved. Jessica either doesn't notice my distance or chooses to ignore it. I have the eeriest sensation of wanting to move backward through time, erasing everything.

I help Jessica read over her vows and apply a raspberry red lipstick. Everything feels like it is moving so fast, and a part of me wants to throw up right now. It would be preferable in contrast to my constant pressing ache since yesterday. At least I knew vomiting would pass, and I could close my eyes, check out and pretend the world wasn't spinning. I want to pretend there isn't a hole in my chest.

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