L'idéal n'est pas le sexe

CHAPTER 1

"Do you take Melissa to be your lovely wedded wife?" The priest inquired.

I had a moment of my heart ceasing to beat. This was unbelievable. After all this time of loving him and being there for him in every situation, not now. It's impossible that Michael is getting married to someone else in my presence.

I gazed at the stunning woman wearing a white dress who was standing next to him. Melissa, who I thought was my best friend. The person who assisted me in choosing the ring I gave to Michael when I proposed two years back.

Tears stung my eyes while witnessing her bright smile directed at him.

"I do," Michael proclaimed confidently, looking at Melissa with a clear expression of pure love on his face.

Those two small words stabbed my heart deeply.

For eight years, we had been inseparable ever since we met in college.

We had been preparing for this wedding for more than a year.

Now, he was tying the knot with my disloyal best friend rather than me. How could they have treated me like this?

I must have let out a strangled cry of pain, as multiple people turned to glance at me with surprised looks.

I looked into Michael's eyes and caught a glimpse of pain before his expression turned cold once again.

The priest solemnly intoned, "If anyone has reason to object to the union of these two in marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace."

This opportunity belonged to me. My final chance to end this endless nightmare and achieve the life I had envisioned with Michael.

When I tried to speak, all that came out of my mouth were weak gasps, while the priest interpreted my silence as approval and proceeded with the ceremony.

"By the authority given to me, I declare you husband and wife."

I observed through blurred vision as Michael embraced Melissa tightly and kissed her passionately.  The kiss continued until an usher loudly cleared his throat. They separated, smiling at each other like infatuated youths.

Similar to how Michael and I were in the past, before this act of betrayal occurred. Everyone around me began to clap and cheer.

 I don't know how my legs managed to support me as I walked out of the church into the refreshing spring breeze.

The sounds and voices merged in a way that made it hard for me to tell if people were trying to communicate with me, ignoring them I concentrating solely on making my way out of that building as quickly as I could.

I managed to reach my car without fainting or vomiting, and got into the driver's seat feeling disoriented. Observing through the rear mirror, watching their happiness and closeness felt like getting punched in the gut over and over again.

That's when I eventually snapped, bending forward as strong sobs convulsed my entire body. After all we had experienced together, why would Michael betray me like this?

We had created numerous plans, dreams, and commitments. And at this moment, they were all reduced to ashes.

After an unknown amount of time, my cries eventually reduced to a continuous flow of tears. I gasped and ignited the car reeling out of the parking lot as a speed of light. I aimlessly drove for hours, with painful memories and endless questions swirling in my mind without stopping.

What mistake had I made that led me astray? What did I do to cause him to stop loving me? Had he really ever loved me? How could my dearest friend Melissa?

In the end, I found myself at a dingy dive bar in the city center, craving to escape reality. Getting incredibly drunk was the only method I could think of to avoid the excruciating torment of those unanswered questions, even if just for one evening.

I don't recall many things after consuming the fourth or fifth whiskey shot. A blurry collection of descending depression and sadness.

Lost at how I ended up here, or maybe I must have contacted someone to pick me up at some point, as the next moment I was conscious of, was when I woke up in my own bed, feeling more despondent than I had ever felt before.

For the next couple of days, I stayed in bed, hiding my pain under my duvet blocking and shutting everything out.

All I was capable of doing was weep until I believed I had no more tears, only to be overwhelmed by another surge when I considered Michael's betrayal once more.

My phone kept ringing until the voicemail was full with worried calls from friends and family asking about my location. I was unable to bring myself to discuss what had occurred with anyone. I was extremely embarrassed, humiliated, and heartbroken. It felt as if I was the subject of a twisted universal prank that everyone else understood except for myself.

I made myself leave the bed after much consolation from myself, shower, and face reality again, even though I didn't want to at the time. Wherever I turned, there were memories of Michael and the bond we shared; stubs from concerts we went to, keepsakes from trips, and silly presents exchanged throughout the years. Every single one now felt like a blow to the stomach.

At times, I would stay awake in bed gazing at the ceiling, pondering if he was elsewhere looking up at the night sky, and thinking about me.

Had he ever felt remorse for how thoroughly he had destroyed me? Or was he ecstatically pleased with his new spouse, his new existence, easily abandoning me like a no longer desired used item?

Eventually, I came to understand that I couldn't continue to dwell in my sorrow indefinitely. I continued to have a good job and duties to attend to. I needed to figure out how to start moving forward and reconstruct some semblance of a life.

There came a knock on my door. I got up from the couch, preparing for another friend's well-intentioned inquiry about my "situation."

However, it was not a friend. It was Melissa. Appearing as fashionable as always in a chic sundress, seemingly unconcerned about anything.

"Hello," she welcomed me with an empty smile when I opened the door. "Is it okay if I come in? We need to have a conversation."

My fist clenched and unclenched at her bold request. But a part of me wanted to hear the lies she was about to spill as she tried to justify her unjustifiable actions.

Confidently, she glided in and made herself comfortable on the couch, appearing entirely at ease in my home. I stayed upright, maintaining a safe distance while giving her a hard glare filled with hidden disgust.

"I can imagine you are curious about what happened." Making it seem as though I was the one who had been mistreated rather than her. "Michael and I, well we never intended to develop feelings for one another. It gradually occurred in the last few months as we spent more time together, planning your wedding and such."

I understood that she was going to attempt to tell me a clichéd story of being "soul mates" who had somehow found their "eternal love" for each other while planning my wedding, and I couldn't bear it.

"Keep it," I interrupted her, shocking us both with the bitterness in my tone. "I am not interested in listening to any more of your weak excuses. You betrayed my trust in the most severe way by stabbing me in the back. You not only cheated with my partner, but also pretended to be my friend while I was planning my wedding."

Melissa started to speak, but I wasn't done releasing months of pent-up anger.

"I don't know how you can face me after that. Melissa, you are a horrible, self-centered individual. You two are a perfect match, you see. I am thankful to have discovered your true nature as a deceitful and malevolent snake before marrying him and committing to a life of deceit and cruelty."

Sitting there, she appeared a little rattled but was doing well at keep it. Perhaps some tough realities would ultimately remove that arrogant expression from her face.

"Kaitlyn, I..." she began once more, but I have heard enough.

"Get out," I said, pointing at the door. "And don't ever come crawling back here again."