by K. A. Berg
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
Did you like this story?
Coming November 2020
Acknowledgments
About K.A. Berg
Other Books by K.A. Berg
My So-Called Perfect Life
Copyright © 2019 by K.A. Berg
All rights reserved.
Visit my website at www.bergbooks.com
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design—T.E. Black Designs, www.teblackdesigns.com
Editor—Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing, www.unforeseenediting.com
Proofreading—Rosa Sharon, iScreamProofreading.com
Interior Formatting—T.E. Black Designs, www.teblackdesigns.com
“Sometimes you have to let go of the picture
of what you thought life would be like and learn to find joy in the story you’re actually living.”
-Rachel Marie Martin
Chapter One
Danielle
“Tilt your head to the side just a bit, Danielle.”
I follow Mark, the photographer’s, instructions, while holding my smile. Not that it’s hard. Happiness bursts inside my chest so bright it rivals the hot June sun beating down on us as we stand outside the gazebo on the rooftop garden at the hotel.
“Good. Good.” Mark says as he snaps away. “Now, Mom and Dad, let’s get you and the bride. Go ahead and stand beside Danielle.”
Mom smiles as she joins me. “You look so pretty, darling.”
My father kisses my forehead. “My beautiful Sweet Pea.”
Mark takes what feels like one hundred more photos before calling over my sister, who is also my maid of honor.
“Amelia,” I call out to her when she doesn’t respond to Mark.
She stands, huddled with my best friend, Mercy, who rounds up my bridal party on the other side of the garden.
Either they don’t hear us or they’re ignoring our attempts to get their attention.
“Come on, Amelia,” I say, heading across the garden to where they are. “We need to keep on schedule, guys. I have spent hours carefully crafting every detail of this wedding. Everything will be perfect as long as we follow the plan.”
There’s so much going on today. So much that has to be done and in a specific order to make sure it all goes off without a hitch.
Scott and I have been together for six years. We met on my twenty-first birthday. He approached me at a party on campus. I was wearing a birthday sash, and he said he just had to wish the prettiest girl in the room a happy birthday. I swooned right there. From then on, Scott Lewis has been the picture-perfect boyfriend and then fiancé. We’re college sweethearts. Fell in love our junior year and never looked back.
I’ve been dreaming of my wedding day for the last fourteen months. I’m looking forward to the moment Scott sees me in my dream Carolina Herrera dress, all done up. I want this moment to be etched in his mind forever. And mine. I’ve dreamed about how his eyes will mist up. How he’ll wipe a stray tear or two away as I walk toward him. How he’ll tell me I’m the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
My sister will not delay my moment. Amelia is perpetually late. I’m not even sure how she’s kept her job for so long, considering everything runs on Amelia time. Not today. Today we run on Danielle time for a change.
“Earth to Amelia,” I say as I get closer to them. “Stop messing around, guys. Let’s go.”
Amelia turns toward me. She looks green--something’s wrong. She’s pale. Her eyes, which are the same whiskey hue as mine, look slightly glassy.
“You don’t look so good,” I tell her.
“She looks fine,” Mercy says, trying to step in front of her. “I told you green wasn’t the best color, but you didn’t want to listen to me.”
“Either way, just ten minutes ago, she was demonstrating how she couldn’t wait to back her ass all up on Scott’s ‘hot-as-balls’ cousin. Now, she looks like someone just murdered her puppy. What’s wrong, Ams? Please tell me you’re not going to be sick,” I say. “I told you buying a breakfast burrito from that food truck wasn’t a good idea.”
Please don’t throw up on the dress. Puke stains will not look good in my wedding photos. Can something like that be Photoshopped out?
It will also seriously impact getting everything done in the next half hour. I didn’t factor in vomit breaks when I planned today out.
“We have thirty minutes to finish these pictures and do final touch-ups before we walk down the aisle! Come on, ladies,” I say trying to get them back on track.
Mercy nudges Amelia’s arm with her shoulder, and Amelia gives her a stiff shake of her head. Mercy glances down at something they’re hiding between them as she steps closer to Amelia.
A silent conversation passes between them through looks and glares and short head movements, but neither says a word.
“What the hell are you two doing?” I don’t have time for this. “What’s wrong? Do I have lipstick on my teeth?” I run my tongue over my teeth when a horrible thought hits me. I gasp. “Do I have a stain on my dress? Dad’s Bloody Mary? Damn it! I told him to stay away from me. I knew I should’ve told them no tomato juice at the bar! Where’s the stain? Can we hide it?”
I look down, frantically trying to spot any red on my dress.
“Tell her, Amelia.” Mercy pushes her forward.
Amelia shakes her head.
“Seriously, you two, one of you, start talking.”
My sister’s brown eyes flicker down to the iPhone in her hand and back to me.
I immediately recognize the case. “Is that Scott’s phone?”
“I, um … well, uh … I found it on the bench right here,” she finally spits out as the phone chimes in her hand.
“He must have left it here,” I say, reaching for it. “The guys had their pictures taken right before us. We need to call one of the groomsmen to come get it before he comes up here, looking for it. I swear, if Scott sees me before those doors open, heads are going to roll. I will not let anything ruin my moment.”
Amelia jerks the phone out of my reach as it goes off again.
“What are you doing?” I hiss. “I don’t want any broken
traditions on my wedding day. I don’t have my phone to use, so give me that.”
Her shoulders slump, and she hands over the phone, looking defeated.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask as I type in Scott’s birthday backward to unlock his phone. “You were all but bouncing off the wall not even fifteen minutes ago, claiming you couldn’t wait to get your drink on and find a man to keep you warm to—”
The rest of the sentence dies on the tip of my tongue as I look down at the string of texts coming in.
Mandy: I can feel you dripping out of me.
Mandy: I bet your prim-and-proper little fiancée never let you mark her in a public restroom.
Mandy: I bet my lipstick and cum are still on your cock.
Mandy: Here’s something to help you out tonight when you have to rub one out because she can’t satisfy you like I can. Remember how hard you just came for me? Remember how good my lips felt around your cock just before you hiked up my dress and fucked me while wearing the tux you’re going to marry her in?
It’s a video of bright red lips gliding up and down the shaft of a penis. Presumably Mandy’s lips and Scott’s penis.
Mandy: It’s not too late to change your mind. You know she’ll never keep you happy. Not the way I can.
Mandy: Please don’t marry her, Scott.
Bile rises in my throat. I try to choke it back, but it isn’t working. White dots dance in my peripheral, and a dull ringing fills my ears. I look at my sister through the tears I’m desperately trying to keep from falling. Amelia’s lips are moving, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
Oh my God!
“That small-dicked bastard is cheating on me?” An anger I’ve never felt before rises from my feet and straight out my mouth pushing every other feeling aside. “That asshole is cheating on me? With his fucking assistant?”
A savage laugh shoots through my anger like the lid off a steaming pot.
“Why is she laughing?” I hear Mercy ask.
“I don’t know,” Amelia answers.
I hear my parents next, “What’s going on?” My mom asks.
My life is imploding. Everything wonderful—all the happy memories, the world Scott and I were building, the last six years of my life—ignites into flames. The ash rains down on me on the roof of the city’s most-sought-after wedding venue.
This can’t be happening. This has to be a joke.
I try to convince myself this is some pre-wedding hoax, but the vision of Scott’s dick in her mouth are very much present in my mind.
My dream life—the one I’ve been picturing and building in my mind since Scott asked me to marry him eighteen months ago—swirls in my head in bright, vivid colors and bursts into a fiery explosion, the pieces falling to my feet in charred bits.
“Breathe,” Mercy coaches while Amelia runs her hand down my back.
My head is buried between my knees while I’m in the midst of a panic attack sitting on a settee in the bridal suite of the hotel.
I trace the intricate pattern of lace flowers on my dress. The dress I spent months and months saving for. The dress I absolutely love but is now soiled with visions of Mandy’s whore lips wrapped around Scott’s cheating dick. Every time I admire the flawlessness of the beading on my veil, it’s all I’ll remember.
I pick up my head and look at the beautiful bouquets on the table—the perfect combination of hydrangeas, peonies, and roses. Everything was planned to perfection. Now, it’s tainted. All of it.
The ring on my finger catches my eye. Just an hour ago, I thought it was the symbol of a great love. But now, it just signifies lies and betrayal.
“Why the hell did you show her the phone?” Mercy hisses at Amelia. “You couldn’t have given her the Reader’s Digest version? Instead, she got to see it in an up-close-and-personal HD video.”
The texts started coming through just as Amelia found the phone on the roof. The two of them read some that popped up on the screen before handing it over. They read the rest of the texts over my shoulder as they came in. That was when my dad herded us into the elevator and down to the bridal suite before anyone else caught wind of what is happening.
“You kept pushing me to tell her,” she defends herself. “What the hell did you want me to do?”
“Toss it off the rooftop. Step on it. Anything other than hand it over to her,” Mercy suggests with a flailing arm.
“I froze! It’s not like I had a My Sister’s Soon-to-Be Husband Is a Cheating, Lying Bastard plan in place and ready to go.”
“I’m going to kill that motherfucker!” my dad vows, stunning everyone in the room, me included.
My head snaps toward my sweet dad, who’s pacing the floor like a caged animal.
“Arthur,” my mother gasps, shock coloring her cheeks.
We are not a loud, boisterous family who swears a lot, except Amelia, much to my mother’s dismay. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my easygoing, low-spoken father even raise his voice, much less say motherfucker.
“That worthless piece of shit hurt my baby girl,” he snarls, his anger evident in his stiff posture, clenched jaw, and red face. “On her wedding day! I gave that man my blessing, and he does this? No way! Not to my Sweet Pea. I’m going to kill him. No one hurts my girls.”
My grandmother, who has been quiet up until now, speaks up, “You should string him up by his balls before you kill him. It shouldn’t be an easy death.”
This is not something I ever thought I would have to worry about with Scott. He is charming, good-looking, down to earth, and above all, he made me feel like the most important girl in the world. I honestly never saw this coming. I can’t recall a single time I even saw Scott look at another woman.
My dad, now a tad bit calmer, says, “Your mother and I will go tell everyone that the wedding has been canceled.”
“We’ll sneak you out the back door,” Amelia adds.
I don’t say anything as my family tosses out different options on what I should do next.
Their words wash right over me as my disbelief fades, and the rage inside me bubbles back up. I shove the nausea and tears out of the way.
How many late nights at the office were actually due to end-of-the-month reports, and how many were for a servicing? Of his dick. By his assistant.
How could he plan a life with me while committing the ultimate betrayal with her?
I feel so damn stupid. Not once did I ever think Scott would be capable of this.
I guess that’s what everyone who’s been cheated on would say though, huh?
Embarrassment and humiliation fester as I stare at the clock.
In less than twenty minutes, everyone is going to know that my fiancé is a cheater. Or that I wasn’t good enough to keep him happy.
Damn, that’s a shot to the gut.
Actually, no, it’s not. This is on him, not me.
“What do you want to do, Dani?” Mercy asks.
I’m running the gamut of emotions. A fierce desire for revenge crawls up my spine, turning it to steel as I sit taller on the bench. My eyes volley between the phone and flowers sitting on the buffet table across from me.
I will not allow him to humiliate me any longer. I won’t be the pathetic woman who walks away in a weeping mess.
An idea of my own forms in my mind, and a Cruella de Vil–esque smile spreads across my lips. Standing from the settee, I grab my bouquet from its box and turn toward my parents, sister, grandma, and my best friend.
I look them each in the eyes before saying in a steady, calm, even-tone, “We have a wedding to get to.”
“What?”
“Like hell.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not letting you marry that bastard.”
Their outrage all blends together while five sets of eyes look at me as if they’re unsure whether or not I should be immediately checked into a mental hospital.
Slipping Scott’s phone into my very sexy white lace bra that he will nev
er see, I head for the door.
“Danielle, what the hell are you doing?” Mercy demands, grabbing my arm before I can open the suite doors.
Looking back over my shoulder, I stare into her eyes before doing the same with my sister and parents. “Please, just trust me.”
“Sweet Pea,” Daddy says, “I will not let you marry that man.”
Batting my eyelashes, I gaze at him and nod. “I know, Daddy, and I love you for that, but let me do this my way, please.”
Chapter Two
Danielle
Both Mercy and Amelia make their protests known before reluctantly walking down the aisle.
A bittersweetness fills my heart as I think about all the work and dedication I put into making this the wedding I’ve always wanted. The vision boards, the cake samples, the dress shopping, venue tours—everything sits heavy in my heart, knowing that it was all for nothing.
A tear slips down my cheek and lands on the petal of one of the calla lilies in my bouquet, but that’s the only one. I will not give this man the satisfaction of my tears.
I inhale deeply and square my shoulders as if I were prepping for battle. He had no regard for me and my feelings, so I refuse to let Scott see how much he hurt me.
