What Bloomed After Goodbye

Caleb's face went dark.

He grabbed my wrist. "Mira Massey, you done making a scene?"

He leaned in, voice low, anger barely held back.

"You even know what today is? You really gonna throw a tantrum right now?"

I didn't argue. I peeled his hand off and walked for the exit, done with this sick excuse of a wedding.

He grabbed me again, yanked me back.

"They're just a few photos. A joke. Is that really worth this?" His voice edged with impatience. "Think about the bigger picture. Our families are here. Everyone's watching. You make a scene, what are people gonna think?"

I snapped my head toward him.

"A scene? Open your eyes. Who's making a scene here?"

The giant screen still blasted those photos.

He and Holly—locked together, way too close.

Caleb's eyes flickered. His voice softened, but it was the same excuse.

"It was just a game. A punishment. We were drunk. Nothing happened. We've been together five years. Can't you give me that much trust?"

He dipped his head, almost coaxing.

"We're about to exchange rings. Whatever it is, let me explain after the wedding, okay?"

I frowned at him. "It's been five years. When have I ever not trusted you? And when have you ever actually explained anything?"

They went to movies alone.

Talked late into the night.

When Holly got sick, he left me to take care of her.

They'd crossed the line a long time ago.

Every time I called it out, he brushed it off. "Trust me."

And now—our wedding day—she blasts kissing pics, and he still wants trust.

Caleb went quiet.

A beat later, he pulled the line that always made me sick.

"I know your family messed you up. You're insecure, sensitive, suspicious. I don't blame you. But don't let that ruin the wedding we've been waiting for."

Five years.

Every time Holly came up, he dragged my family into it.

Said he felt bad for me. Said I grew up without love. Said I overthink. Doubt everything.

So yeah—some nights, I lay there wondering if he was right.

If I was too sensitive.

Now I know.

I'm not.