He looked handsome in white pants, a flowy white shirt, and bare feet as he enjoyed his intimate beach wedding, the sand between his toes. He didn’t look nervous. He looked confident, sure of himself and his decision. His bride had dark hair and dark eyes, the total opposite of me. Quite a beauty, nonetheless. She wore an airy white dress that floated about in the breeze. She was also barefoot. She wore a halo of flowers on her head and carried a single white rose. That’s it. It was a simple wedding. No fanfare—nuptials for free spirits.
Blu didn’t notice me sitting in the back row of the small audience. Insignificant and cast off like a piece of annoying lint. He was far too captivated with his new bride to notice little ol’ me. You know, just his former fiancée he left at the altar four measly weeks ago.
I let out a sigh as I continue to pace the gazebo. In the end, I didn’t confront Blu. I sat there like an idiot and watched it happen. His betrayal has now gone full circle. He couldn’t marry me, but he could certainly marry someone else.
So, here I am, wondering if I should crash his wedding reception. I do have a few choice words I’d like to say to him. I mean, why not? I can’t let this trip be a total waste. Especially after the trail of destruction I left in my wake. I’m not sure I can repair the damage I’ve done. I’m angry with myself for my rash behavior. What was I thinking?
I wasn’t. That’s the problem. I was reacting. Kira was right. I did the wrong thing. I kissed my precious control goodbye as if it was never an integral part of my personality.
I’m thinking clearly now, now that the damage has been done. It’s far too late for remorse, but it’s there all the same. There’s no more wind in my sails. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.
The hot breeze lifts my hair gently as my flowery sundress floats around me. This is a true ocean breeze. Misty Gray doesn’t have an ocean breeze. It has ocean wind. Practically gale-force winds compared to this Cancun waft of air. The sun is setting in the distance. I move to the edge of the gazebo, to a place where the sun is still a tiny sliver. The heat soaks into my skin, bringing me a type of happiness only the rays of the sun can bring. I close my eyes, letting the breeze and the sunshine heal me. Because I’m broken and I have no one to blame but myself.
I thought I was healed. I thought I was over Blu. Turns out, slapping a Band-Aid on a wound doesn’t work if the wound is too deep.
I behaved badly. Irrationally. Let’s face it, I did the stupidest thing I could have done. I let my emotions have their way with me. I played follow-the-leader with anger. Not a good choice. The worst choice in the history of worst choices.
I’m grateful for being able to admit when I’m wrong.
How I wish gratitude could change my mistakes. Gratitude doesn’t work this time. I don’t feel better at all.
I grasp my Murano glass heart, thinking of Slade and all he means to me. Have I ruined us? Probably.
My phone rings, and I pull it from the pocket of my flowery sundress, the same dress that holds precious memories of a perfect day with Slade and Matteo in the most romantic city in the world. The name SLADE appears on the screen of my phone.
A quick intake of breath passes through my lips. Slade’s calling me; he’s actually calling me. As I accept the call, I silently plead he’s not calling to tell me to go take a hike. Or to tell me he never wants my face to grace his vision ever again in this lifetime.
But that’s not Slade. And I know it.
“Hello,” I say. The trepidation in my voice is distinct.
“Hello.” His voice is quiet, solemn. He’s not happy with me. Of course, I knew that already.
“How are you, Marin?” He sounds so formal.
“I’ve been better.”
“Doesn’t sound like things went so well.” Slade doesn’t sayI told you so, but he should.
“You could say that.” Why is emotional pain so much harder to endure than physical pain? I could endure being stabbed in the heart with a sharp knife. It wouldn’t hurt nearly as much as this.
“I’m sorry, Marin.” He breathes into the phone, making me wish he was at my ear in person. I doubt he’ll ever be that close to me again.
“So, did you stop the blue man from making a huge mistake he’ll regret for the rest of his days?” He’s not joking. He’s serious.
“No.”
“Did you crash the wedding and make a big scene?” Still, no hint of humor in his voice.
“No.”
“What happened?” he asks.
I owe him the truth. Even if he wants nothing to do with me. I take a deep breath and hope for the best. “I showed up at his beach wedding, sat in the back row. Only a few members of his crazy family were there. Guess the rest figured he’d back out again, so they didn’t make the effort. No sign of his parents. I didn’t recognize any of the other guests. Makes me think they just invited a bunch of hotel guests so people would be in the audience. No one noticed me lurking like a stalker in the background. It was a modest wedding. Probably took all of an hour to plan. But…he actually went through with it. I kept expecting him to make a run for it. He didn’t. Blu and his bride faced each other while holding hands and recited heartfelt vows to each other. Like they’d known each other for years.”
“That must have been tough,” he comments, his tone blank.
“You’d think.” A heavy sigh escapes me.