Page 5 of Best Part of Me

“There’re so many people out there. I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“Okay, so yeah, that’s a solid reason to marry someone. Not because, oh, I don’t know, you love them.” She rolls her eyes and clamps her hands on my shoulders, spinning me around. “Fucking go. Now.”

“I know, I know.” I pout and try to drag my feet.

“Look, I can respect that there was a time you loved Chris. But you don’t anymore. And you can’t marry him. You need to go end things with him.”

“Okay, you’re right. I’m gonna do it.”

I pass my other bridesmaids who don’t even seem to notice I am undergoing a dilemma.Some bridesmaids they are.

“You got this.” Rosie shakes a fist, and I give one nod before I grab the doorknob and pull.

Chris and the groomsmen are in a different room on the vineyard grounds. The reception is being held indoor in their banquet hall, and the ceremony is supposed to take place outside near the vineyard underneath the wooden arbor. Our guests have been receiving free tours of the vineyard’s wine cellar along with samples. On second thought, maybe they’re all a little tipsy and they won’t take the blow of the canceled wedding as badly as I imagine.

I find Chris in his assigned room and read his expression instantly. He’s upset seeing me in my wedding dress.

He winces and shields his eyes. “Babe, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding gown before the ceremony.”

His choice of words are ironic.

I pull his hands away from his face. “I really need to talk to you.”

He takes me in, and his eyes darken, a smirk curving his lips. “You do look beautiful though.”

I dip my chin. He’s not making this easier. “Thanks.”

“But what is with all those fucking layers? You look like you’re wearing a life-sized shower pouf ball.” He chuckles into a closed fist.

My shoulders stiffen, and suddenly a rush of confidence pours through me. “I thought it was something my mom would’ve liked.”

He hunches a shoulder nonchalantly, as if the mention of my deceased mother is nothing. “Sure, I get that. I guess I just thought you would’ve picked out something a little sexier. But whatever. It won’t matter once it’s on the floor, it will be my beautiful wife under—”

“Chris, I can’t marry you,” I blurt, the words surprising even me when I hear them.

It’s enough to shut him up. “Babe, stop fucking around. The ceremony is going to start soon. People are already starting to take their seats. You need to head back to your room.”

“I’m sorry. So sorry. And I know I have lousy timing.” I rub my temples. “But I just can’t. We can’t. We aren’t right for each other, and I think you know that too.”

“What the hell are you talking about? You’re always talking.” He snatches my hands and clasps them in his. “Shit, Camille, we’re minutes from walking down the aisle.”

And that is another reminder of something Chris always says to me that hurts.You’re always talking. As if me talking is too much. LikeI’mtoo much.

When I was a little girl, I used to get in trouble at school for talking. My teachers assumed I wasn’t listening. But I was always listening. My mom would remind me that I have a gift. The gift of speech. Of being able to give pep talks, hype people up, tell the best stories, and have confidence in front of a room.

Chris putting me down for something my mom tried to convince me is an aspect that makes me special motivates me to push forward with my decision. Though tears still work themselves into the corners of my eyes, welling and threatening to spill.

My throat suddenly goes raw. “I can’t.” I tear my hands free from his hold and take a step backward.

“Wait. Are you fucking serious?”

I nod.

He swipes a hand over his forehead. “Fuck. Camille. Don’t do this.”

“Rosie will explain to our guests so you don’t have to.” I take a few more shaky steps away from him.

He strides forward once, but I hold my hand up to stop him. “I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice breaking.

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