Page 10 of Runaway Bride's Guide to Love

“Thanks, and your dress is…”

“Hideous. But it has pockets.”

“Nice. And I wasn’t going to say hid?—”

“Will you two stop!”

Oh, shit. Pencil Dick is still here.And he’s talking back.

“I’m sorry. Was I interrupting your spanking time? How dare I do such a thing.”

“Stella, don’t take that tone.”

“Oh, Duncan…” Nadia groans, shaking her head. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“Thank you, Nadia! Because you know what? I’m going to take whatever fucking tone I want to! I came up here to get reassurance. That last night was just unfortunate timing and a complete one-off. That you’re the man I want to marry. That I’m the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.”

“You are.”

“Really? I am? Is that why you cleaned out our accounts? Lied to me about it? Is that why you’re here with Nadia getting your fucking ass beat before we walk down the aisle? No offense, Nadia.”

“None taken.”

“And speaking of Nadia! How do you have money to hire her? I hope to God you’re paying her, because every woman deserves to make her money however they so please. But we didn’t have money to pay for our flowers or DJ. Which means I assumeyou’realso broke if you resorted to stealing from our joint account. So please tell me Duncan, who's paying for her?”

“Oh, he didn’t pay me yet,” Nadia chimes in. “Asked if he could pay me after. I’m starting to wonder if he wasn’t going to conveniently not have any money…”

“Stella…Nadia…let me explain. This is all a big misunderstanding.”

I look down to Duncan, who has never looked more pathetic in his worthless life as he cowers on the bed.

“Is it a misunderstanding that you’re a broke piece of shit? Or a liar? Because if it’s not any of those I don’t want to fucking hear it”

“Stella…we don’t need to use that language.”

Oh no he didn’t…

“The fuck I don’t!” I scream, ripping the engagement ring off my finger and throwing it at him. It bounces off his head and falls to the carpet. “I’ll use whatever the fuck language I want. Because I’m not yours anymore. You don’t get to tell me how to talk. Or how to act. Or remind me to keep the crazy away. It’s not your problem anymore because I’m fucking done.”

“Done?”

Is he serious? Why does he look like that’s the most shocking thing I could have said? For a smart man he really is an idiot.

“Yes, we’re done! Do you have selective hearing? We. Are. Done. Over. Broken up. Engagement off. You can go down and tell everyone that the wedding is off. Make up whatever excuse you want because I doubt you’ll tell the truth. But I couldn’t care less what you say. I’m out of here.”

I turn on my heel, somehow remembering to maneuver the hideous dress so I don’t trip over myself during my dramatic exit.

The dress…

I happen to stop in front of a mirror on the closet of the suite. My face is red. I’m breathing heavy. And I’m wearing a fucking ugly dress because I was trying to make him happy.

I did everything to make him happy…

“I gave you everything,” I say, though I don’t turn around to direct my words to him. He doesn’t get to see me cry. “I changed for you. Because I wanted the fairy tale. I thought you were going to give it to me. I became the woman you wanted me to be. I was ready to do that for you. Because I loved you.”

“Babe…” I hear his footsteps coming closer but I hold up a hand behind me.

“Don’t.” I turn around, quickly willing the stray tears to go back in. “Don’t ‘babe’ me. This isn’t something you can smile and talk your way out of. I mean it, Duncan. We’re done.”

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