Chapter 7 - The Walk of Freedom
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I turned away from the man who was supposed to be my husband. I faced the crowd of two hundred guests, holding my head high despite the heavy, crushing weight in my chest.
"I am so sorry you all had to witness this tonight," I said, my voice carrying across the silent room without the microphone. "Please, enjoy the food and the open bar. The bill is already paid. But I would rather disappoint everyone in this room tonight than disappoint myself for the rest of my life."
Then, I turned around and walked out.
I marched down the center aisle of the ballroom, still wearing my massive Vera Wang wedding dress, still clutching my bridal bouquet of white peonies. My mother walked proudly right beside me, flanked by my bridesmaids who were glaring daggers at anyone who dared to whisper.
The heavy mahogany doors of the ballroom swung open, and I stepped out into the cool, crisp Boston night air.
Our pre-booked wedding limousine was idling at the curb. The driver rushed out, his eyes wide as he saw me approaching without the groom.
"Just me and my mother tonight, Frank," I told him, hiking up my heavy silk skirt and climbing into the back of the car.
As the limo pulled away from the hotel, the adrenaline finally wore off. The reality of what had just happened crashed over me like a tidal wave. I collapsed against the leather seats, burying my face in my hands, and finally allowed myself to cry.
I cried for the future I had envisioned. I cried for the betrayal. I cried for the years I had wasted trying to make myself smaller so Daniel could feel bigger.
My mother held me tightly, stroking my hair as the city lights blurred past the tinted windows.
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"You did the hardest thing in the world today, Emma," she whispered, kissing my forehead.
I looked down at my bare left hand. The indentation of the ring was still there, but the weight was gone. For the first time that entire day, I felt completely, undeniably free.
