I eat the meal I had meticulously chosen to suit Mitch’s preference of seafood and my like of steak.
Polite conversation with the members of our table. We’re all the misfits who don’t fit with any of the other guests. And yet their eyes narrow when I speak. Lips pull tight. Judging me through the rumors. And then of course they break out in a smile when Hayes turns his attention on them.
The clinking of forks against crystal to demand kisses of the newlyweds.
Sneers of disdain and the roll of eyes when I laugh out loud at one of the many things Hayes murmurs against my ear to bring me back to him. To calm me down. Because even though I was invited, in their eyes, I’m not allowed to enjoy myself.
And there’s so much irony in the thought it’s ridiculous. Do these people not realize that if I hadn’t walked away, they wouldn’t be here at all celebrating Mitch and Sarah’s happy union ? I walked. Mitch moved on and is happy. Sarah’s happy. I think I’m missing something here. Like how they need to move on too.
Hayes and I are in a world of our own though. He knows no one although they all seem to feel like they know him and want to say hi. I know a lot of people and yet they want to act like they don’t know me and make themselves suddenly seem busy whenever I catch their eye.
I feel like a pariah. The bits and pieces of comments I overhear confound me: Whore. Homewrecker. It figures. It all makes sense now. How dare she? But I ignore them. Have no choice but to. I knew people would be surprised I was here. I figured there’d be some unwelcome animosity—the charity case who rejected Mitch, and in turn them, and their more elite life status.
I hide the pang their comments cause me. I continue to smile despite the burn of tears in my throat. I accept the kisses to my temple with appreciation when Hayes offers them. I laugh out loud when he says something funny at our table of misfits to let those judging me know I’m no worse for wear when all I really want to do is head back to the villa to escape.
And I wonder why they came all this way to enjoy a wedding and are preoccupied with my presence instead.
I walked in here tonight expecting some vitriol, and yet what I didn’t expect was how all of this was going to affect Hayes. How he bristles every time he catches a snippet from table ten when there is a lull in our conversation. How I can feel the tensing of his fingers on my thighs when he catches the two women with the god-awful dresses blatantly staring at me before laughing out loud to let me know I’m the topic of their discussion. The clench of his jaw at the heads being shaken back and forth as if I’m a sad sight to be had.
And despite this, his training is a godsend. His acting skills are perfectly timed when he smiles animatedly and waves a hello at the god-awful-dressed women letting them know he’s heard them. Or how he declines an autograph for the daughter of table ten because it’s Mitch and Sarah’s day and we’re here to celebrate them.
But we’ve had fun. We’ve been playing the “What’s Next?” game where I guess what’s going to happen next during the reception to see how much I remember of my own timeline.
And each time I’m right, we have to take a sip of our drinks. It’s our way to relax. To make this event something different for us than it is for everyone else.
We’re laughing over watching the servers begin to prepare for the cutting of the cake—which I accurately predicted would happen next—when I look away from Hayes and meet the eyes of Sarah and Mitch standing before us as they make the rounds to all the tables and guests.
“Saylor.” Mitch is quiet. Serious. Sarah fidgets beside him with a smile plastered on her face, uncertain how to act when facing her husband’s ex-fiancée. And I understand how she feels because I feel the same discord.
I know a million eyes are on us right now. The whole room waiting for a catfight from the ex-fiancée, so I do the exact opposite of what they expect.
I stand. “Hello, Mitch.” Extend my hand to my replacement. “So lovely to meet you, Sarah. You look absolutely stunning. That dress? It’s gorgeous. Thank you so much for inviting us.”
Silence stretches for the shortest of moments. As if Sarah fears what taking my hand will say to the guests. But manners get the best of her and she reaches out and takes it. Her grip is soft. Timid.
“Thank you so much for coming. It was very important to me for you to be here.”
“Oh.” I think I do a good job of hiding my surprise. I glance over to Mitch and while his smile is there, the rest of his expression is the perfect picture of angst and irritation.
“You see,” she says, lowering her voice and leaning in toward me, “you two broke it off rather suddenly. Lucky for me that happened because then he found me. But I think there are some unresolved issues between the two of you that need to be dealt with. And they need to be dealt with so when Mitch and I leave this reception tonight, he’ll finally be over you. Finished. I love this man with all I have, and frankly, I’m sick of the ghost of you following us around.”