The light streaming through the open drapes is bright. Maybe that’s what woke me up.

Stretching, I gaze around the room in wonder. The honeymoon suite really is beautiful. The sheer drapes filter in the early morning sun.

Flipping onto my back, I turn my head to see my new husband. No Ryan. Maybe he’s in the bathroom?

Arching my back, I stretch, stroking the luxurious sheets. They even smell wonderful!

Needing to answer the call of nature, I note I’m still wearing my wedding dress as I work my way towards the end of the bed. Too bad.

I had big plans to strip it off. Slowly. Seductively.

Well, there’s always tonight.

Pulling off the thigh-high stockings, the cool tiles on my feet make my bathroom trip more urgent.

Washing my hands, I realize that something about yesterday was not quite right.

Ryan’s bathroom bag is on the counter. But I don’t recognize anything. He has a favorite electric toothbrush and an electric razor. The cologne is new, too.

Something definitely isn’t right.

Just thinking about the kisses we shared makes me wish I hadn’t drank so much last night. His kisses were perfect.

Melting. Toe-curling. Basically, just all-around perfect…which is interesting, considering kissing was something Ryan never seemed to enjoy.

When we did kiss, sometimes I felt like he opened his mouth too much. Leaving slobber around the side of my mouth. It wasn’t something that we really did a lot of, and if I was perfectly honest, that was fine by me.

But yesterday, he was like a totally different person.

Walking out of the bathroom, I look around more closely. There must be something I’ll recognize.

The bed is the main centerpiece of the room. Gossamer drapes artfully decorate the canopy. Flower petals are sprinkled on the floor in a trail from the door to the bed. I finger one that’s still on the bottom of it.

And the marriage vows. They were so beautiful. Ryan would never be accused of being a romantic. His last word on the vows was a put-out “Fine”.

Someone must have written them for him, right? Could he have written them?

What am I thinking! Who else could have?

The door beeps and swings open. Dante walks in with the room service cart and parks it by the table.

What the hell?

Legs like noodles, I drop unceremoniously onto the bed. Looking at him, I realize my mouth is hanging open.

Snapping it closed, I note he’s very nonchalant.

“Coffee, sunshine?” He puts the mugs on the table and fills them with steaming coffee.

Moving to the chair, I watch him fix my mug perfectly. He obviously paid attention to what I like.

“What are you doing here?”

He continues unpacking the cart. Mm, pancakes. I love pancakes.

“Let me just finish here really quick.” He seems determined to deflect my questions.

Oh, god! What now?

“I don’t think you should be here,” I start, and wonder what happened to Ryan. Instantly, I think of the possibility of an accident.

Sinking into the other chair, he grabs the napkin and puts it on his lap. “Well, technically, we’re married. This is my room, too.”

What?

“What?” I don’t recognize my own voice. It’s small and tight.

Is this a joke? I keep waiting for the punch line. I expect him to tell me he was just dropping our tray and Ryan will be right back. Now I wouldn’t even mind if he added that “Ryan’s had an accident so he won’t be back till later”.

Anything would sound better than what he’d just said.

But Ryan has never brought me breakfast in bed before.

He would never bring me pancakes, and certainly not coffee.

He doesn’t even like me drinking coffee. Says it stains your teeth, which I guess it would, if you didn’t brush your teeth regularly.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Ryan sent me a message yesterday. Said he was in Rome, said he had a better offer, and expected me to clean up his mess.”

Suddenly, he’s by my side. I’m dimly aware of his hand on my shoulder.

What the fuck?

That can’t be true.

Right?

Where is he?

Hopping up, I search the room for my phone.

“Where’s my phone?”

Dante points to an entry table by the door.

The lump in my throat is so large, and my heart! Good Lord, my heart! It’s beating as if I’ve run a race.

I’m not even sure I can speak at this point. I’m hyperventilating, and I know it!

Think, damn it.

Luckily, my fingers work my phone automatically as I flip to my message stream with Ryan and hit his contact to call him.

As it rings, I feel my back slowly slide down the wall until my butt hits the floor. My white dress is too tight to sit cross legged, but I bunch it a bit as I hear Ryan’s voicemail kicking in.

“What happened…? I… Call me.”

What was I going to say?

I want to scream and shout and wail and pull my hair!

Is this shock? I’m hurt and angry…and confused.

Dante drops to his knees in front of me. Bracing myself on my knees, he rubs them gently as we look at one another.

“Are you okay? You don’t have to talk to him right now.” He plops on his butt in front of me. “He’s going to kill me, you know. You think you’re angry, but he’s a motherfucking asshole.” His hands move from my knees to my hands, gently removing my phone and setting it next to me.

“How can this be? How…why?”

Flabbergasted is putting it mildly at this point. With my mind in turmoil, I know I’m not processing anything properly.

“All I could think about was what an idiot Ryan was. Ever since I met you, I wanted you.” Moving closer, he anxiously squeezes my hands. “I knew it was wrong when I found out who you were. I was—no, am—so attracted to you. And as I got to know you and found out what a fabulous, awesome person you are, I’ve been so jealous.”

Tears stream down my face. I know he means well but just deciding to be a substitute husband wasn’t what I needed or was looking for.

“Ryan is a piece of shit who blew off your wedding. It’s harsh, I know. I’ve been struggling with how to tell you. But how could I tell you without looking and sounding like I was just trying to steal you? When he contacted me to ‘just take care of it like the best man you’re supposed to be’, I just…I just—fuck! I don’t know.” He releases me to rub his face.

“I meant what I said last night.” Moving closer, he pulls me into his body. “I know you don’t understand. Fuck, even I don’t understand. But I know how I feel about you. Let me have some time to show you how serious I was last night.”

I was so happy last night! Sure, in hindsight, some of the reasons it was so great was because it was Dante.

I’m not an idiot. I do know that.

But essentially, I was stiffed at the altar! Jilted!

The man I’d put my hopes and dreams into and wanted to spend the rest of my life with was a no-show! Fucking asshole.

I’m bawling now. It doesn’t make sense, but I feel ashamed.

Ashamed that I wasn’t wanted. Ashamed that I was duped so easily. Ashamed that I was going to have to tell all my friends and family about this.

The very idea makes my stomach lurch. Yanking my dress out from under me, I scramble up as carefully as I can and sprint for the bathroom.

Slamming the door behind me, I spend a few minutes dry heaving.

Tears and snot, now bile. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

My reflection looks terrible. I wet a wash cloth and hold it to my face. I just can’t seem to stop crying.

Quickly, I brush my teeth and start the shower.

As I’m undressing, I think about how I dreamed of being undressed by Ryan for our first night together. My tears start all over again.

Why? Was it me?

The shower steam fills the room quickly as I get under the spray.

This is perfect to just let all my sobs out.

Fuck, what an asshole.

I can’t believe someone that I thought loved me would do this to me. Am I that bad of a judge of character?

As I cry, I think about Dante in the other room.

He seems perfect. Is that another misjudgment?

Sure, a part of me acknowledges that this is exactly what I wanted. Dante’s kisses were like a five-course feast compared to Ryan’s bowl of stew.

But Ryan said he loved me! He said he would marry me. How could he just stiff me like that?

And if Ryan could lie, ask me to marry him, how sincere can Dante’s vows be when we’ve only known each other for two days?

He’s his best man, for Christ’s sake!

It’s just too much to process. My chest hurts. Crumpling to the shower floor, a little voice in my head comments, Well, at least it’s clean!

I laugh, and it turns to sobbing. Again.

The water cascades over my head as I bawl.

It’s just too much. Too crazy and too much.