Page 15 of Something Blue

They have a picture of me, standing alone at the doors that lead into the church, holding those flowers and looking utterly lost.

What made him decide not to marry her?

Where is the groom?

Runaway groom leaves stricken bride at the altar.

Embarrassing night for Neve Greco as her fiancé is a no show on their wedding.

The headlines are endless - and horrible.

Standing in the elevator with Dalila, heading down into the foyer with my little overnight bag on the floor next to me, the wedding dress rather brutally shoved into it along with the rest of my clothes from yesterday - I close my eyes and count to three.

Stop looking at your phone. Stop stressing about it. Get home. Deal with one thing at a time.

But, as soon as those elevator doors slide open I realize another big mistake I’ve made. I didn’t ask the hotel staff to escort me out of the back entrance.

The foyer is flooded with reporters and cameras fire off bright flashes of light.

“Oh my word.” Dalila squeals in horror.

“Walk - keep your head down.” I say to her, speaking loud enough to be heard over one hundred questions being blasted at me.

“Why did he decide not to marry you, Neve?”

“Were you two having problems?”

“Can you tell us if one of you was having an affair?”

“How did it feel to be stood up at the alter?”

I want to punch them in the face. Their questions are heartless and cruel. They don’t give a shit about what I went through - they only care about the headlines. The best story. And this, right now, is the best story.

We tackle our way out of the foyer with the help of the hotel staff who finally realize what is going on and come to our rescue. “You can’t be in here.” One of them shouts angrily to a camera man.

“Where did you park?” Dalila asks.

“Right here.” I say, pointing to my car.

Last night they were supposed to take it away and send it back home for me - I was supposed to leave this morning in a limousine, headed for the airport.

But obviously someone made the right choice and left it here for me. Thank goodness.

I climb in and Dalila waves goodbye, and hurries towards her own car.

In the silence of my car, driving through the city towards my apartment - my heart is heavy. I’m grateful that the painkillers seem to work, dulling it to a mild thirty percent of what it was before, but now with the headache gone my mind is free to think about everything else.

“Where are you, Damion?” I ask no one as I turn into the underground parking of my building.

The security is ridiculously strict, so I am not worried about reporters here. But I am worried about how I’m meant to be dealing with all of this.

What am I supposed to do now?

Hurrying up to my apartment a wave of relief washes over me as I step inside and pull the door shut behind myself. I remember what I told Dalila last night. I told her I was relieved when I didn’t have to marry Damion and it’s true. I am still relieved now - but that doesn’t mean that I wanted anything bad to happen to him and I have no doubt that something has happened

Damion is not the type of person who would stand me up. And I think he was pretty excited to marry me.

I push the suitcase up against the wall next to the front door, knowing it will sit there for a few days before I deal with it. A tinge of guilt pokes at me because the dress is in there.

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