He Called Me ‘Jealous’ While She Hanged Off Him in a Bridal Party Chapter 10
The wedding took eight more months to plan. It was so grand, so intricate, but every single detail was exactly
what I wanted.
Even the dress took ten fittings before I finally said yes.
No loud designs. No heavy embroidery. Just delicate gathers at the waist that skimmed over the small swell of my belly.
I was one month pregnant.
When Nathaniel heard the news, he couldn’t stop grinning. Even my dad wiped away quiet tears and said
I was finally happy.
The ceremony was at the family estate in the Hamptons. White chairs and fresh flowers stretched across the lawn. The guest list was intimate–only the people who truly wished us well.
The officiant asked, “Elena Hayes, do you take
Nathaniel Sterling to be your husband?”
I looked at the man in the white suit standing in front of me and smiled. “I do.”
His tears finally fell.
The applause and cheers rose around us, Nathaniel leaned down and kissed me.
After the ceremony, I slipped away to touch up my makeup.
That’s when I felt it–a pair of eyes drilling into me.
Our gazes met.
The man dropped his head. But I’d already recognized him.
Cody.
He looked like he’d aged a decade. Gaunt. Drawn. His hair streaked with gray. He was wearing a janitor’s uniform–he’d snuck in.
The rumors I’d heard came rushing back.
After everything fell apart, Cody and Tiffany both spent five months in county jail. His company collapsed. Word was, they screamed at each other every single day in that cell, blaming each other for everything.
When they got out, Tiffany went back to her hometown. Her mom got her a job as a cashier at a supermarket. Minimum wage.
Cody had no hometown to return to. The relatives
who’d shown up at his wedding wouldn’t even answer his calls now.
Some people said he was doing day labor on construction sites–cash under the table, nothing steady. Others said he was delivering food and racking up bad ratings. A few said he’d drunk himself into a bleeding ulcer, lying alone in some rented room with
no one checking on him.
I didn’t know which stories were true. I didn’t care.
None of it had anything to do with me anymore.
He walked fast, his steps unsteady. At one point he half–turned, like he wanted to come back. Like he had something to say.
He never got the chance.
Security escorted him out before he could take two steps.
I watched his hunched, retreating back and felt nothing. The same nothing you’d feel for a stranger.
Three days after the wedding, a text came through from an unknown number.
[I’m sorry. I hope you’re happy.]
[I’ll make it up to you in the next life.]
I lowered my eyes.
Don’t bother. Let’s not meet in the next life, either.
I didn’t reply. I blocked the number and deleted the thread.
Some people don’t deserve another second of your time. Some pasts aren’t worth a single glance backward.
I set my phone on the coffee table and reached for the Cutie Nathaniel was peeling for me.
“Who was that?” he asked.
“Spam.”
He didn’t ask anything else. He just peeled the next mandarin.
Outside the window, the sun was brilliant. The autumn flowers were in full second bloom, their scent drifting in with the breeze.
I popped the slice into my mouth. It was sweet.
The sun was bright. And the days ahead would be even brighter.