Page 1 of Three Reckless Words

1

OUCH! THAT STINGS (WINNIE)

When I was little, I was always told my wedding would be the best day of my life.

In my humble opinion, that’s alotof hype for one day where everything must go right, and any error could spell disaster.

What if the groom gets hammered the night before in one last blowout of bachelor glory and can’t stand up the next day?

What if a bridesmaid twists her ankle?

God, what if there’srain?

Or, what if the blushing bride hits her breaking point, gets cold feet, and goes flying from the venue like a fox on the run?

Yeah. That last catastrophe speaks to me.

That’s why I’m ripping down the highway in a car with streamers cascading from the back and JUST MARRIED soaped on the windows in white letters so thick I can barely see out the back windshield.

That’s why I’m trapped in shoes that pinch my feet and a corset that crushes my ribs.

That’s why I’m still wearing this prison dress.

Welcome to my life.

It sucks.

My hands hurt from clenching the steering wheel for dear life, and the A/C fights a losing battle against the sweat dripping down my face in the July heat. If I’m not careful, I’ll blow the thing out on its max setting if I don’t die from heat exhaustion first.

At this point, the only thing I’m craving is freedom from this godforsaken dress.

I would sell mysoulto get out of this thing.

It’s tight, it’s uncomfortable, and it’s a savage reminder of the life I’ve just blown to pieces.

Also, the man I abandoned, basically at the altar.

Basically.

Oh, God.

I mean, it wasn’t technicallyat the altarin front of a big crowd with their mouths hanging open. I’m not that borked in the head.

I never made it down the aisle. I didn’t stop and stare at my fiancé like a deer trapped in the headlights. No one was knocked down in my great escape.

Small blessings.

Still, too bad I made it to the part where I was zipped up in this hell-dress and there was no chance of persuading anyone to take it off again before I scrammed.

Especially when every passing face I saw before I ditched was twisted in aWhat the hell do you think you’re doing, little missy?kind of way.

I wonder what Holden would—

Nope. Don’t think about him.

He’s probably livid. I just humiliated him in front of his entire social circle, but I doubt he’s wounded.

My fiancé—ex-fiancé?—cares just as much about me as I care about him.

---