THE MOST HUMILIATED BRIDE
1226 Words
The car ride home was painfully quiet.
Elena sat between her mother and the window.
Her wedding dress took up most of the seat.
Her bouquet rested on her lap.
The flowers were still fresh.
That almost made it worse.
She stared outside.
People moved along the sidewalks.
Cars passed.
A woman stood outside a shop arguing with someone over the phone.
A little boy ran after a football.
Life was continuing.
That was the strangest part.
Her entire life had just fallen apart, yet the world hadn't stopped.
Nobody knew.
Nobody cared.
Nobody could see the hole that had opened inside her chest.
Her mother squeezed her hand.
Elena looked down.
"Are you okay?"
Her mother looked at her.
"No."
Elena nodded.
"Me neither."
Her father remained silent in the front.
His hands were clenched.
After several minutes, he finally spoke.
"I should have stopped him."
Elena looked at him.
"How?"
"I don't know."
"Dad."
"I should have noticed something."
"You couldn't have."
"He was acting strange."
Elena stared at the back of his head.
"You noticed?"
"A little."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to frighten you on your wedding day."
Elena looked away.
"I wish you had."
Her father sighed.
"So do I."
Her mother pulled Elena closer.
"Don't blame yourself."
"I'm not."
"You are."
Elena looked at her.
"Maybe I am."
Her mother kissed her temple.
"This wasn't your fault."
Elena didn't answer.
She didn't believe it yet.
***
The moment Elena entered her bedroom, she closed the door.
She stood with her back against it.
Then she looked at herself.
The white dress.
The necklace.
The makeup that had been carefully applied that morning.
She looked like a bride.
But she wasn't one.
Her knees suddenly weakened.
She reached for the bed.
Then she fell onto it.
The tears came without warning.
She buried her face in the pillow.
She screamed.
She cried until her throat hurt.
She cried for eight years.
For every birthday.
Every anniversary.
Every promise.
Every time Damian had said, "One day, I'll marry you."
Every time she had believed him.
She cried until her chest hurt.
A knock sounded.
"Elena?"
Her mother's voice.
Elena didn't answer.
The door opened slowly.
Her mother came in.
She sat beside her.
For a while, she said nothing.
Then she began stroking Elena's hair.
"Let it out."
Elena cried harder.
Her mother held her.
"I feel stupid," Elena whispered.
"You are not stupid."
"I should have known."
"Known what?"
"That he didn't love me."
Her mother frowned.
"You cannot blame yourself for trusting someone."
"He cheated."
"That was his choice."
"He lied."
"That was his choice."
"He left me."
"That was his choice."
Elena lifted her head.
"Then why does it feel like I did something wrong?"
Her mother wiped her cheek.
"Because you loved him."
Elena stared at her.
"Love makes you believe the best in people."
"And what if the best wasn't there?"
"Then that doesn't make you foolish."
Elena's lips trembled.
"I don't want to love anyone again."
Her mother gave a sad smile.
"You don't have to."
"I mean it."
"I know."
"I never want to feel this again."
"You may not."
Elena looked at her.
Her mother touched her face.
"Not every man is Damian."
"I thought Damian was different."
"I know."
"He was my best friend."
"I know."
"I told him everything."
"I know."
"I gave him everything."
Her mother hugged her.
"And he still chose to hurt you."
Elena closed her eyes.
Her mother's voice became firmer.
"That is his failure, Elena. Not yours."
***
The next morning, Elena woke before sunrise.
She didn't cry.
She didn't feel like crying.
Something had changed.
The pain was still there.
But beneath it was something colder.
She walked to the mirror.
Her face looked tired.
Her eyes were swollen.
She touched the necklace around her neck.
Her grandmother's cross.
Her mother's words returned.
That is his failure. Not yours.
Elena breathed in.
Then she whispered to her reflection.
"I will survive this."
She took a shower.
Changed her clothes.
Tied her hair back.
Then walked downstairs.
Her parents were sitting at the kitchen table.
They both looked at her.
Her father stood.
"Good morning."
"Good morning, Dad."
Her mother studied her.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better."
Her mother didn't look convinced.
Elena sat.
Her father cleared his throat.
"There is something we need to discuss."
"Damian?"
"No."
Elena looked surprised.
"Then what?"
Her father exchanged a glance with her mother.
"That man from the wedding."
"Adrian?"
"Yes."
Elena leaned back.
"What about him?"
Her mother spoke carefully.
"He called."
Elena blinked.
"He has your number?"
"You gave it to him?"
Elena remembered.
"Yes."
Her father frowned.
"What exactly did he say?"
"He didn't say anything inappropriate."
"Elena."
"He proposed."
Her mother nearly dropped her cup.
"He what?"
Elena sighed.
"He asked me to marry him."
Her father stared.
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"And you are considering it?"
"Yes."
Her mother stood.
"Elena, you cannot be serious."
"I am."
"You met him yesterday."
"I know."
"You don't know him."
"I know."
"Then why?"
Elena looked at her mother.
"Because I need a way out."
"A way out of what?"
"Everything."
Her father shook his head.
"You are hurt. That is why you are thinking like this."
"Maybe."
"You cannot marry a stranger because another man broke your heart."
"I'm not marrying him because Damian broke my heart."
"Then why?"
Elena looked down at the table.
"Because I refuse to let Damian's decision become the end of my life."
Her father went quiet.
She continued.
"I don't want everyone looking at me and thinking, 'There is the woman Damian abandoned.'"
"People will talk for a few days."
"Exactly."
Her mother sighed.
"People always talk."
"I know."
"Then don't build your life around their opinions."
Elena looked at her.
"I'm not."
She paused.
"I'm building it around mine."
Her mother sat down again.
"What do you actually know about Adrian?"
"Not much."
"Exactly."
"He is a Blackwood."
Her father frowned.
"That doesn't make him trustworthy."
"I know."
"Then what does?"
Elena thought about it.
"His actions."
"And you know his actions?"
"Yesterday, he stayed when everyone else left."
Her father said nothing.
"He didn't ask me to stop crying. He didn't tell me that everything happens for a reason. He didn't tell me to forgive Damian."
Her voice softened.
"He simply stayed."
Her mother watched her.
"And you think that is enough to marry him?"
"No."
Elena shook her head.
"I think it is enough to consider him."
Her father leaned back.
"Have you thought about what happens after the wedding?"
"No."
"Children?"
"No."
"Living together?"
Elena hesitated.
"No."
"His family?"
"No."
"His expectations?"
"No."
Her father gave her a pointed look.
"Then you haven't thought about it enough."
Elena nodded.
"You're right."
She stood.
"I'll find out."
Her mother looked worried.
"And if you don't like what you find?"
"Then I'll say no."
Her father nodded slowly.
"Good."
Elena looked at both of them.
"But I need you to understand something."
"What?"
"I am not doing this because I am desperate."
Her voice trembled slightly.
"I am doing it because I want something that belongs to me again."
Her mother reached for her hand.
"What belongs to you?"
Elena looked toward the window.
"My future."
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