When I pulled up to the house, I had expected to see camera crews and Dante waiting for me. But it was quiet, normal.
I went inside and called out for my parents. No answer.
The day passed with me in a fugue state, numb with shock, crying all the time. A haze of misery covered everything. Poor Droopy and Snoopy kept whining at me, nudging me with their noses, and trying to cuddle. They wanted to make it better. They couldn’t.
I didn’t watch sad movies or listen to breakup songs. I couldn’t do any of the things I normally did when this happened. Because this was different.
The suffocating despair made me wonder if I’d ever be happy again. I probably should have eaten, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to. I stood in front of the liquor cabinet and wanted to get smashed. At least then I could forget for a few hours. Problem was, once I sobered up, I’d still be just as depressed, only then I’d have a hangover, too. I decided against adding to my suffering.
My parents hadn’t returned by the time I fell asleep. I probably should have called them, but I couldn’t bear telling them what had happened. It would be too humiliating. I wasn’t ready to talk about it to anyone. Not even Kat.
The last thought I had before I drifted off was that every moment of the day, I expected Dante to show up. To try and fix things.
He didn’t come. If that wasn’t an admission of guilt, I didn’t know what was.
I spent the next morning in my bed, well into the afternoon. I catnapped most of the day, and the image I saw whenever I would close my eyes was him with Genesis. Like it had been seared into my brain, and I would never be able to think about him again without remembering what I had seen.
My parents returned. I recalled my mother mentioning that they had a corporate function in downtown Atlanta, just before my wedding. They had probably chosen to stay in a hotel overnight instead of driving back home. It was something they did all the time, especially if they had both been drinking.
“Lemon?” My mother came up the stairs. “What on earth are you still doing in bed? Your rehearsal dinner is in two hours. The caterers will be here any minute. You need to start getting ready! Oh, and don’t forget that Miss Lydia is bringing your dress by in the morning to do any last-minute alterations before the wedding. Get a move on, darlin’!”
She left before I could respond. I wanted to tell her what had happened and crawl into her lap like when I was a little girl so she could fix everything.
But there was no fixing this.
I got up and started to get ready, because if I stayed in bed, if I started crying, then I would have to explain everything. I had at least a week or so before the end of the show would air, and that would give me some time to pull myself together so that I could tell them what had happened.
And hopefully get through the evening without sobbing hysterically.
One of the thoughts that had occurred to me on my plane ride home was, “Thank heavens I still have Sterling. I can still get married.”
Only that didn’t seem fair. To him or to me. I couldn’t treat Sterling like some kind of back-up husband. He deserved to be with a woman who loved him the way that I had loved Dante, before he had taken my heart and thrown it in a blender.
I didn’t want to settle. Not for a lying, cheating prince, and not for a man I didn’t really love.
Even if I wasn’t going to be with Dante, I wasn’t going to marry Sterling. It was over.
My timing sucked, and it made me feel sicker than a dog with tick fever. It was terrible of me to be doing this, but I would get through this dinner, and at some point tonight I would pull him aside and tell him that we wouldn’t be getting married tomorrow.
I would have to pay my parents back for all the money they’d spent on this wedding. I’d have to return the gifts, write apologies—it was all going to be overwhelming. I was also going to have to shut down my business. Matthew Burdette would make sure of that. Everything I had worked so hard for was just gone. I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut, afraid I might start crying again. But I had so dehydrated myself over the last two days that there were no more tears.
All I had to do was get through tonight, and deal with everything else tomorrow.