How sappy can I get?
I wasn’t usually such a fucking-sentimental-ass-goober, but standing under a pink and white flower-covered altar with the chick officiant giving me a reassuring Don’t worry honey, this will all be over before you know it smile and my best friend patting my shoulder with a This is going to be an awesome day, bud gleam in his eye…it was starting to get to me.
We waited…and we waited…and we freaking waited some more.
Fuck, where is this woman?
The music from the string quartet was starting to get on my nerves as they started to play their set for a third time. Our guests were fidgeting in their white folding chairs as they looked around, muttering to themselves. It was starting to get pretty embarrassing.
“What the heck is taking them so damn long?” I mumbled to Sean, wiping the beading sweat off my forehead.
He just shrugged, shaking his head. “You know how Marsheila has to be perfect. They’re probably still trying to get her hair just right.”
This waiting game was getting absolutely ridiculous. We were already running thirty minutes late. At the current rate, we were going to miss our cocktail hour completely, which was the only part of the whole event I actually was looking forward to. The rest of the day I had agreed to just to make the little wifey smile.
Happy wife, happy life.
Happy wife, happy life.
Happy wife, happy life.
I had to keep reminding myself why I had thrown so much money down the drain for one fucking party. Seventy grand flushed down the toilet for five hours of mingling with people, half of whom I couldn’t stand or didn’t even know.
What a fucking crock of shit.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Hillary, my soon-to-be-wife’s little sister, start quickly shuffling around the group of seated guests, trying to wave me over to her.
Hillary’s eyes were glassy and wide as her hands trembled, handing me a note. I stared at her, shaking my head. A tear rolled down her face as she whispered, “I am so sorry, Gavin. I couldn’t talk her out of it.” She shoved the note into my hand before turning around and bolting away in her tan heels and short flowing seafoam dress.
I dropped to my knees right there in the soft damp grass.
I didn’t want to know why—all I needed to know was that my life had shifted on its axis in one second flat.
Sean started to pull me up by my armpits, forcing me to stand. I couldn’t control it—I was fucking raging, slipping into shock, and I took it out on the closest target. I clocked my best friend right in the jaw. Tears were streaming down my face as he grabbed his cheek, staggering backward a bit. “Holy fuck man!”
I was frozen. All eyes were on me. No one was moving, not a word was spoken. My heart was crumbling. The silence was maddening.
Sean wrapped me up in hug, wrestling the note out of my hands.
“Get off of me!” I was seeing red as I screamed into his face.
“You just punched me, dude. You need to let me see this.” His eyes were locked on mine as I thought about pulling his shirt over his head like a jersey, but my better judgment kicked in just in time. I gave in and watched as Sean opened the handwritten note from my now ex-fiancée. His eyes got wider and wider as they read down the page.
“Fuck her man. Let’s go get fucking drunk.”
I tried to take the note from his hands. “Why don’t you just wait until tomorrow for this? Let’s make the best of all the money you blew on this shit show.”
Sean put the note in his pocket and I turned to the guests. “It seems like there won’t be a wedding tonight, I guess that’s something to celebrate.”
So, in our tuxes, with all the guests that were there for me, we went and got plastered at the open bar, ate a shit load of amazing filet mignon with wild Alaskan salmon along with everything else at the buffet, and danced our night away. The best part by far was the food fight the ensued once the cake was brought out. The extra cleaning and damages bill that came a few days later was totally worth it.
I had paid for that shit; I figured I might as well use it to begin the next chapter of my life as a fucking single man. The evening turned out to not be what was expected, but it was one of the best nights in my life—a complete and total liberation of Gavin Hayes.
Continue Reading Hat Trick Now!
For You, I Will: A Shots on Goal Spinoff (Shots On Goal Standalone Book 7) Page 7