E M I L E E

How long is it supposed to take before you stop crying over a boy you dated for a third of your life? One that you were supposed to marry?

I was supposed to walk down the aisle today and marry the love of my life.  Instead I'm hiding in my best friend's spare bedroom and dreading confronting him again.

I don't want to see Cody.  I don't want to know who she was, or how long he's been sleeping with her.  Was she his first?  Was I?  Was someone else? 

No.  I don't want to know.

Tears have matted themselves to my cheeks; I feel as though my eyes are permanently puffy and red. My chest aches from hundreds of sobs that still feel as though they won't ever stop. I can't eat, everything I attempt comes right back up when I think about Cody being with someone else. I can't even bring myself to get out of the bed to shower or change my clothes.

I'm disgusting.

I toss another tissue into the heap of others that litter the bedside table and shake the box for another, but coming up empty. I toss the box across the room and bury myself back beneath the sheets, in my safe little burrow.  I could hole myself into here forever, right?

I dread the day when I have to see people again.  I'm humiliated.  I had to call guests that sent RSVPs and tell them that my wedding is canceled.  I had to cancel the DJ, the photographer, the caterer, our cake - everything.  We weren't able to get one deposit back, which I understand this is the exact reason why they ask for them.  Must be nice to be the groom and sleep around when your family doesn't pay for shit.

All that's left is to cancel the honeymoon and return gifts.  Luckily, all of my bridal shower gifts were put into storage due to lack of space.  Cody has the key to the storage unit; he can do that shit himself.  He can be humiliated this time.  All I need is the honeymoon folder with all of our information in it, which is on top of our fridge.  I've been avoiding going back to our apartment because I'm terrified to see him again. 

He's called.  He has called my phone so many times that I threw it against the wall and shattered the screen.  What could he possibly say to make this right?  Nothing.

I filled every ounce of my being with love for Cody John Carlisle.  From the moment he asked me to our first homecoming dance, to our first kiss, our graduation and fist apartment together during college, his beautiful proposal where he told me I was the only girl he could see in his future... it was all a lie.  He got what he wanted from me and then got it elsewhere too.

When I hear my two best friends whispering outside the bedroom door I force myself from the comfort of my sheets to stand.  The closer I get to them the more I hear their argument of who is coming to come in here first. 

"Gretch, you're more forward with her.  It's your apartment.  Pry her out of that damn bed!"

"No!  You're a damn divorce lawyer!  You're used to this shit. Go in there and console her, but tell her life needs to go on!"

When I open the door, both of their heads snap up in shock.  The first thing I notice is that Kara's hair is now about four inches shorter in length and Gretchen's is now blue.  They wasted no time in getting rid of their wedding hair.  When was the last time I even washed mine?

"You look terrible," Gretchen's eyes widen at the sight before her. 

Kara smacks her upside the head and moves forward to wrap her arms around me.  "Are you ready to eat something, honey?  We were thinking chips, queso, and a pitcher of margs from Carlos O'Kelleys.  What do you say?"

As much as I love the sound of getting drunk off my ass and drowning my sorrows in cheese while forgetting that Cody ever existed - I need to put what's left of this wedding to bed.

"I have shit to do," I shake my head no.  "I need to cancel the honeymoon and I need to find someone to move my things out of my apartment to my parent's house..."

"No!" Gretchen stops me with a finger in the air.  "You are not moving back in with your parents. You are staying here until you get your own place.  You can't be bringing men back to your parent's house, gross."

"Jesus, Gretch!" Kara smacks her again.  "It's been like five days!"

"And seven is acceptable after a breakup!" Gretchen hits her back. "She needs to put herself out there!"

"I'm not ever dating again," I begin to sniffle.  More tears are inevitable. 

Both girls stop their bickering and once again wrap me into their arms as I unleash another fit of crying.

"You can do so much better," Kara rubs my back. I roll my eyes knowing that this is what she told her divorced client the other day at the office. She puts on a good show.

I love my best friends dearly, but I just want to be left alone right now. Kara is engaged and getting married in about four months. For the next four months I'm going to be reminded of all things wedding when I never got to have mine. Then there's Gretchen, who has another partner in her bed weekly. I wish I could be as outgoing as she is, but I'm not. I spent almost eight years with one person and waited to sleep with him until the week before our almost-marriage. There's no way I'm going to put myself "out there". Cody fucked me up; I'm damaged goods. I'm sure I could have done better, but I didn't realize I needed better. I was blindly convinced that I had the best.

"I need to shower," I pull myself away from Kara. "I have a lot to do today. Enjoy the queso."

Before either of them can say another word in an attempt to get me to go with, I rush to the bathroom and lock the door behind me. With the water on I can wash my hair and cry in peace.

• • •

When I pull up to my apartment, I drive the lot twice, double checking that Cody's blue Ford F-150 is nowhere in sight.   He's either at work or with his whore at her place.  Great.  Gives me time to get more of my stuff without interruption. 

I'm not planning to stay long, just a quick sweep.  I unlock the door and step in, immediately tripping over one of Cody's sneakers and tumbling to my hands and knees with pain surging through my ankle, again.

"You cock-sucker!" I take the sneaker and throw it at the wall, causing our engagement photo to leave its nail and smash go the ground below.  Shards of glass cover the floor, but I give zero shits as I rub the blackening area of my ankle.  The blows just keep on coming from him.  How many fucking times do I have to tell him that this is what the mat is for beside the door?  Is he deaf AND stupid?

I use the couch to lean on and lift myself from the ground, immediately feeling pain shoot all the way up to the back of my knee.  I sprained it this time, awesome.

I don't have time to focus on it.  I hobble myself to the bathroom and grab some ibuprofen, swallowing eight hundred milligrams with a scoop of water from the tap.   Unfortunately, when I look up, I see what Gretchen was talking about.  I've been avoiding the mirror, even after my much needed shower.  I knew my eyes would be puffy, but the whites are stained red.  Dark bags hang below them and I'm starting to see crows feet and frown lines. 

I can't go to the travel agency looking like this; I don't look human.

I pull open the top drawer of the vanity, selecting some loose powder and a brush.  I begin applying it all over my face, trying to give my skin back some of its normal pigment.  Then I apply a little mascara and eyeliner to freshen my eyes.  With my hair in a ponytail, this will have to suffice.  I look better than I did.  I appear approachable, at least.

Before leaving the apartment I pack two suitcases with as many of my clothes as I can get into them, taking a bit of everything.  Work clothes, comfy clothes, clothes for hot and cold, pajamas, lingerie, hosiery, and swimwear are jammed into my luggage and just barely zipped up.  I use an old book bag I had from my college days to toss all my toiletries, makeup and jewelry into.  I can come back another day for the rest of it; I'm short on time.  I don't want Cody to catch me here and attempt to talk his way out of this. 

Before I lock up, I grab the honeymoon folder from the top of the fridge, knowing that the travel agency is my next stop.

I don't even bother cleaning the shards of glass from the carpet before hobbling out of the apartment. 

I hope the asshole steps in it.

•  •  •

"So," Tricia frowns as I hand her back my Bali honeymoon plans, "what happened?"

Tricia has known me since high school, both Cody and I.  She's not in my tight group of friends, but I have always considered her a close one. When it was time for us to select our honeymoon destination, it was a no-brainer to contact her. Her family actually owns Minneapolis Travel Company.  This was her first job and will likely be her last.

When I don't offer words, only a simple shrug of my shoulders, her frown turns to an expression of anger.

"That prick!"

I can't help but to chuckle for the first time in days, even though I've begun tearing up again.  Thank god for waterproof mascara.  I rub my cheeks with my wrist as she opens the folder up and begins pulling out all of our tickets and reservations.

"Em, I hate to tell you this, but with these tickets being for tomorrow - I can't return them.  All I can do is try and sell them in less than a day."

"I figured that," I mutter and lean back in my seat.  There goes another four grand down the drain.

Tricia does the same, leaning back in her seat and glancing between me and the folder in front of her.  She pulls out one of the plane tickets, setting it aside and pushes the folder back across her desk towards me.

"Take your honeymoon."

What?

I actually laugh aloud at this. "Are you out of your damn mind?  Hell no."

She shakes her head no. "Do you know how often I see this with my job? More than I'd like to. If I'm assuming correctly, and Cody cheated, you're hurting. Don't let him get to end this his way at your expense. You still have time off, yes?"

I nod yes; Kara already told me that she won't let me come back to work until my vacation time is up. She claims to have hired a temp, but I know she didn't. She just wants me to come back somewhat normal.

"Good," Tricia beams. "Take your honeymoon. Do what you need to do to feel a little better and focus on yourself. Drink, read, soak up the sun; it's good for you. Take pictures of yourself having fun, even if you're still feeling lousy. Wear the hottest fucking bikinis you own. Post that shit to every social media site you have. Don't let him win. Show him that you are a strong, confident, young woman and that you can move on without breaking."

I stare at her. Is she fucking mad? I'm just supposed to go to a couples resort in Bali by myself?  I'll be surrounded by people in love while I sulk.

I swear she can read my mind because she chuckles and points to the folder. "You already paid for it anyways. May as well use it. I'll try and sell the extra plane ticket either here or online, but no promises."

"Tricia, I'm not sure I have the strength for it right now.  I'm a mess..."

She stands from her desk and this time picks up the envelope and forces it back into my hands.  "Em, go show Cody that he fucked up."

I look down to the folder again and spin it between my fingers.  I mean, what could it hurt?  It's paid for, I have the time off, I would be by myself and out of the prying eyes of my best friends for two weeks.  Plus, I'm practically already packed.

"Fine," I sigh and feel tears drop down my cheeks again.  "I'll go alone. Sell Cody's ticket."