Page 5 of My So-Called Perfect Life
“I do,” I say to him since he’s the only man I’ll be saying that to for the unforeseeable future.
Then, the doors open.
Don’t look at his face.I chant in my head as I keep my eyes locked on Mercy as she stands at the altar with an unsure look on her face.
This was the part I wanted most. The look in my future husband’s eyes as he saw me walking toward him. Walking toward our future. Walking toward everything.
Last night, we practiced stopping in front of Scott and having Daddy give my hand to him. That’s not happening. I slow my pace a few rows before the end and stop before reaching Scott.
His forehead scrunches slightly, and I can tell by his eyes that he’s trying to figure out why I’m deviating from the plan.
I smile at Daddy as I turn to him. His hazel eyes are filled with sadness. He returns my smile, only his is weaker and worried. We lock eyes for a moment, and I can see the question in his eyes—do you know what you’re doing?
I take the last three steps toward Scott, and rather than having a moment between us—a tender moment where he is supposed to tell me how beautiful I am and how he can’t wait to marry me and love me forever—I take my spot directly across from him.
“Dearly—”
That’s the only word the minister gets out before I start talking over him.
I stare so hard at Scott, letting him see the betrayal I feel. I pack it all into that one glare. “I know,” I say evenly and low enough for only him and those near us to hear.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Know what, Danielle? What is going on?”
Shifting my bouquet into one hand, I slip his phone out of my bra with the other. “Amelia found this on the roof. Mandy has desperately been trying to get ahold of you.”
He is not a dumb man. He knows the jig is up, but I’ll give it to him. He tries to play it off.
“I lost my phone, like, two hours ago. Dale probably had her calling it to find it. Why are we discussing it now, Danielle? This is the moment we’ve been waiting for.”
He might try, but even if I hadn’t known the truth, that bullshit wouldn’t have worked. As if I would believe Dale, his brother, went to Scott’s assistant—office assistant, mind you, not a personal assistant—to find his phone.
Dude, you’re an accountant, not a CEO.
“I thought you’d like to read her last-minute pleas for you not to marry me,” I sneer, the betrayal bulldozing into the need for revenge fast. “If those don’t convince you, maybe the video of her with your dick in her mouth will.”
The minister sucks in a shocked breath next to us as the crowd behind us murmurs, no doubt wondering what’s going on up here. Scott blanches. The white of his face almost matches the white of his tuxedo shirt.
He stumbles to find something to say. “Danielle, it’s not what you think.”
The flower stems of my bouquet snap as I grip them hard.Lying bastard. It’s exactly what I think.
“It was a one-time thing,” he claims. “It didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even like Mandy.”
And that’s supposed to make it better?
Indignation flares in my chest. “Ohhh, it didn’t mean anything.”
My anger hits an all-time high as I turn toward the gathering of our friends and families behind us and say, “It’s okay, everyone. Scott didn’t mean to sleep with his assistant less than an hour ago. He doesn’t even like her. It’s all a big misunderstanding. Her texts begging him to pick her and not marry me mean nothing.”
A chorus of gasps fill the air as every pair of eyes in the room widens. Mandy’s the biggest. A few heads snap her direction, and her face turns the same shade of crimson as the lipstick on her lips.
“You can have him, Mandy,” I tell her as the rest of the guests follow my gaze to where she sits in the back row. “I don’t want him anymore.”
A glimmer of pride shines in my dad’s eyes as I pass him on my walk back down the aisle. Alone.
The doors close behind me, and a ruckus breaks out after a few moments of hushed whispering.
My dress suffocates me, and I want it off. I dash into the bridal suite and immediately strip out of it. I drop it on the floor, on top of my shoes, and proceed to shove my legs into the leggings I tossed on to come here this morning. I pull the clip for my veil out and slide my sweatshirt back on while slipping my feet into my flip-flops.
