“ROLLER COASTERS AREN'T my thing.” We were all hanging out in the theater lobby, waiting for Keiran to show up. He had some conference call with a client. I couldn’t help but shake my head since it was still hard to image Keiran in corporate America. I’d always thought he’d go pro, and it wasn’t as if he hadn’t heavily considered it. However, when it got down to talking about it, he was less than interested.

“How can it not be your thing?” my fiancé questioned, stealing back my attention.

“Because I’ve never ridden one. That’s how.”

His eyes narrowed and his lips curled with derision. “I can’t believe I was going to marry you.”

THE DOOR SLAMMED behind me and rocked the frame. I stood on the porch and leaned against it, unable to move. I was chained to the porch feeling the lowest of low.
Why do I have to be a major fucking dick?
I made her cry. I was sure of it because I knew Shelly and she’d cry for me. Tears I never wanted her to shed again because of me. I didn’t deserve them. I wanted more but it wasn’t because I didn’t think I had enough. On the contrary. My family made me crave more.  I finally felt as if I had something worth giving, and I wanted them to have it all.
I heard a sniffle and looked up, searching out the sound. Our bedroom window must have been open because I heard a sob and a moan follow.
I couldn’t do this.
I stormed back into the house and took the steps two at a time.

I CAN'T BELIEVE I’m getting married tomorrow. I gazed at myself in the mirror and did a final turn. The dress moved smoothly around my legs and I ran my hands down the tapered waist.
Four years ago I was knocked up with a fatherless child with no hope of ever feeling the burn in my veins caused by my one and only. I let him go, but he came back to me—to us—just like the fairy tales taught us.
“Shelly, have you seen my—”
I swirled around and pressed my back against the full-length mirror, wishing I could hide behind it even though it was too late.
“Oh… baby…”