What Bloomed After Goodbye
Claremont QuinnChildhood SweetheartsBittersweetBiasHypocrisyRegret
On our wedding day, the big screen glitched—then flipped to kissing shots of Caleb Gorman and his "girl best friend," Holly Beech.
Holly shot up, hand over her mouth, smiling all fake-innocent.
"Relax, everyone. We were just messing around. Caleb and I go way back. Guess that makes me wife number two."
Caleb smiled, soft like always.
"That's just her. No filter. Don't take it seriously."
I looked at him. Calm. "She plays kissing pics of you two at our wedding and calls herself your 'wife number two.' That's messing around?"
His face tightened. Annoyed. "It's a few photos. We've been together five years. You're really gonna nitpick something this small and not let it—"
I raised a hand, cutting him off. "Yeah. I am. I'm not letting it go."
That hit him. He wasn't used to me standing firm.
I turned to the crowd.
"This wedding's over."