text: She was wearing a black t-shirt, tight jeans, and a gray mesh drape. That was on the first night I kissed her. She shook a little bit. She was nervous, and I missed her mouth. We laughed and looked at the ground nervously. That was on our first date. We laid on a blue blanket for most of the day, in the grassy opening next to Kelly Drive in Philadelphia. I remember how easily conversation flowed. I remember being worried that I was talking too much: not giving her enough time to answer. I remember the breeze coming off the river and her perfume. I remember our first anniversary. We were with our friends in a cabin in the Pocono Mountains. The house was so tucked back into the forest we thought it was the perfect setting for a horror movie. We left the window open at night, and it got so cold she made me put my arms into her shirt holes to keep her warm. I remember how everything slowly fell apart. I moved to Philadelphia permanently. She had her own goals to accomplish in Happy Valley. Sometimes we fought over something, and sometimes we fought over nothing. Late nights out to dinner and casual dates around town turned to lying on the couch and watching TV. She liked to spend time with her friends more than spending it with me. I liked to spend time with my friends more than spending it with her. When I cheated on her I felt no remorse for weeks. It wasn’t really cheating anyway. I had already been planning on ending the relationship for months. It took four weeks to realize I had thrown a four-year relationship away, but my mind was set. I was proud of the way I ended things. I refused all of her calls and ignored all attempted interaction. We were too young. Now I’m standing outside of what seems like a festival. Purple flowers line a walkway to an enormous tent about half a football field away. I can hear children laughing, but they are being hushed. My brand new Audi RS5 is neatly reversed into a spot behind me. I’m wearing my best suit from Brooks Brothers. I even grew my sideburns out like she preferred. I hate my sideburns. I had told her to wait back then. I told her to make sure she wanted me, to make sure she wouldn’t find anyone better. I never thought she would take me up on that offer. I told her we needed to find success apart from one another. I found it. For some reason all of the money didn’t seem so important now. It takes a bit of talking to get into the wedding. She had hired one of her brother’s friends as an usher. He recognizes me. I promise him I won’t say a word to anyone inside. I just ask to be able to see them take their vows. He is visibly drunk and caves quickly. The vows are beautiful. She is beautiful. I see her parents again for the first time in three and a half years from across the crowd. Her mother is an emotional wreck, and her dad seems like he wants to be. There are a lot of unfamiliar faces. They must be his family. After four years you know everyone in a family: Your family. No one pays me mind. I don’t think they recognize me. I was not in shape the last time they had seen me and nowhere near as well dressed. Maybe they just don’t remember me. I thought it was going to be easy to interrupt the wedding. They don’t actually say that line anymore, though. The one I’m talking about. There is no specific opening for me to interject. Instead I watch him kiss her. She seems to like it more than I remember her liking my kisses. I cringe. It is her wedding after all. I cried. The two families and their friends hoot and holler. Her father and his father hug and clink glasses. I wonder how it would be if my father had been there instead. She was crying. He might have been. She started to scan the crowd, waving and smiling ecstatically. I still stood in the back of the tent. It was time for me to leave. I would trade every job offer, one-night stand, and dollar to stand where he stands. You can’t buy everything. Her sister recognizes me as I pass by the open bar. She must have been working her way towards it as the crowd celebrated. She grabs my arm gently. “Christian...?” Her face looks worried. A mix of happiness and fear start to take over. I smile. I wave; pull my arm from her grasp. I hold my finger to my lips. “Our Secret.” She covers her mouth, turns around, and walks away. As I turn I see her order a drink from the bar. I guess this isn’t like the movies. I guess it isn’t normal to show up to a girl’s wedding uninvited: particularly if you planned to marry her yourself before. I laugh to myself. I wonder what could have happened if I had arrived earlier, if I drank more, if I did interrupt the wedding. I wonder how many fists, kicks, and elbows would have met my face. I walk outside and lean against the back of my car. I do not want to be seen by any early departures. I pull out my last cigarette and wait for the tears to stop. She hated me smoking. I try to tell myself it is all worth it. I still have the money, the career, and the lifestyle. I don’t have my best friend anymore, but she has hers. That feels okay to me. She always said you couldn’t have your cake and eat it too. The paper butt starts to burn. I flick it. Time to go. I stand up and stretch. The tears are dry. I turn around and he is standing there. He’s smoking a cigar with someone I don’t recognize. Thank god. I don’t know why, but I decide to strike up a conversation. He has no idea who I am. I guess she really never talked about me. We talk for almost half an hour. I’m surprised no one has realized he’s missing yet. He’s a better guy than me through and through. He’ll have time for the kids. “You got a good one. Don’t let her go.” He puffs from his cigar as I crouch into my car. A smile sits wide across his face. “Never.” I believe him.