Page 6 of Sundown Somewhere

“Do you want a minute?” Alice asks.

I look up at her, the unopened envelope still in my hands. Ummm, do I? I move my head in a circle, unsure if I’m nodding or shaking it no, because I don’t know my own answer to that question. I can’t bring myself to open this stupid envelope.

This is supposed to be my wedding day. The happiest damn day of my life. Instead, I’m sitting here, trying to figure out why the man who allegedly loves me gave a letter to the man who doesn’t love me.

At least doesn’t love me like that.

I know Hux loves me. There aren’t many men who would agree to be a man of honor and walk down the aisle with another guy, plus do all the other wedding duties.

I bet he didn’t have break up with the bride for the groom on his wedding bingo card…

The soft snick of the door closing pulls me back, and I look up, realizing it’s just Hux and me in the room. He drops down in front of me, placing a hand on either side of me, his deep hazel eyes holding on to me like a hug. A hug I desperately need right now.

“Is this really happening?” I whisper.

I feel like I’m watching someone else’s life unfold in front of me. There is no way that this is really how my life plays out. Nope. Because this doesn’t actually happen to real people. It’s a bad subplot on a daytime soap or telenovela. Not the life of a small-town diner owner.

“’Fraid so.”

Great. Just great.

Nodding, I turn back to the envelope. It’s now or never. Really, never might be an okay option. The it’s not happening portion of the day is perfectly clear. Do we really also need the why?

Yeah, I do. I need to know why he dragged this out for so long, only to end it this way. Why he couldn’t tell me last night.

Ripping through the seal, I tear the paper, as if it deeply offended me in a past life and I’m here to exact my revenge. Consider me Inigo Montoya where that thing is concerned.

Dolly,

By the time you read this, I’ll be at home. My home. This is probably the kind of thing one should tell the other in person, but I felt that some space would be best between us. Because, you see, I’ve been thinking. And I feel that it’s best that we don’t get married. It has become clear over the last little while that you are not what I need in a wife. You simply don’t have the qualities I need in someone. If I’m honest, I don’t see you being a wife to anyone. I should have come to this conclusion earlier, and for that I take responsibility.

I wish you the best of luck in wherever life take you.

Jeff

I don’t see you being a wife to anyone…

Well, he’s right about one thing. Space between us is a good idea. Because my white dress would be splattered with blood had he said this to my face.

I don’t see you being a wife to anyone…

He thinks I would be a bad wife. He’s dumping me on our wedding day because I would be a bad wife.

I wait for the tears to hit. For the sadness to take over and rack my body the same way it does when I watch Mandy Moore tell Shane West she has cancer in A Walk to Remember. But it doesn’t happen.

Instead, it’s shame. Complete and utter mortification.

I feel like I’m fourteen all over again, in the crowded hallway at school, the hem of my skirt getting caught on the heel of my boot resulting in me pulling my skirt down and showing off my thong to half the school. Including the boy I liked.

Except this is worse.

Because most of Hickory Hills, plus a whole bunch of out-of-towners, are currently down in the chapel, waiting on a wedding. One they aren’t going to get. Oh, the rumor mill is just going to love this. I’m going to fuel the gossip of this town for weeks.

“Doll…”

“I…I…”

Snapping my mouth shut, I hold out the letter. There’s no way I’m going to be able to form the words right now, so I might as well let Jeff do the talking. It’s easier that way. Then I can sit here and let the numbness settle in while the life I had planned flies out the window.