Page 4 of My So-Called Perfect Life
I will not allow him to humiliate me any longer. I won’t be the pathetic woman who walks away in a weeping mess.
An idea of my own forms in my mind, and a Cruella de Vil–esque smile spreads across my lips. Standing from the settee, I grab my bouquet from its box and turn toward my parents, sister, grandma, and my best friend.
I look them each in the eyes before saying in a steady, calm, even-tone, “We have a wedding to get to.”
“What?”
“Like hell.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not letting you marry that bastard.”
Their outrage all blends together while five sets of eyes look at me as if they’re unsure whether or not I should be immediately checked into a mental hospital.
Slipping Scott’s phone into my very sexy white lace bra that he will never see, I head for the door.
“Danielle, what the hell are you doing?” Mercy demands, grabbing my arm before I can open the suite doors.
Looking back over my shoulder, I stare into her eyes before doing the same with my sister and parents. “Please, just trust me.”
“Sweet Pea,” Daddy says, “I will not let you marry that man.”
Batting my eyelashes, I gaze at him and nod. “I know, Daddy, and I love you for that, but let me do this my way, please.”
Chapter Two
Danielle
Both Mercy and Amelia maketheir protests known before reluctantly walking down the aisle.
A bittersweetness fills my heart as I think about all the work and dedication I put into making this the wedding I’ve always wanted. The vision boards, the cake samples, the dress shopping, venue tours—everything sits heavy in my heart, knowing that it was all for nothing.
A tear slips down my cheek and lands on the petal of one of the calla lilies in my bouquet, but that’s the only one. I will not give this man the satisfaction of my tears.
I inhale deeply and square my shoulders as if I were prepping for battle. He had no regard for me and my feelings, so I refuse to let Scott see how much he hurt me.
“I don’t know what you are doing,” Daddy says, squeezing my hand in his before placing it on his arm, just as we practiced last night. “But I’m going to trust you to make that man pay with whatever plan you have in your head. I’m warning you now though. If this gets to the part where that minister asks if anyone objects, I’m going to make my feelings on my future ex-son-in-law known.”
Picturing my dad standing up and telling everyone Scott is a motherfucker is enough to release some of the tension rapidly taking over my muscles. It feels good. I think my mother would pass out right then and there, pearls clutched in her hand.
“I promise it won’t get that far,” I assure him. “But can you do me one favor?”
“Sure, Sweet Pea.”
“I want to be alone after this. Can you find a way to get me ten minutes to get out of this dress and slip out the back?”
“Where are you going to go?”
I shake my head. “Not sure yet. I just need to be by myself. I need to process on my own.”
My world just flipped upside down, and I know a torrent of emotions and feelings are going to course through me like a flash flood once I let that dam break.
“Okay, Sweet Pea. I’ll buy you some time.”
The wedding march starts, and the rustling of everyone standing echoes behind the closed double doors of the banquet room being used for the ceremony.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” my father asks one last time.
