"I'm so sorry," I said.
"Oh I'm not," she replied.
".......you're not?" I asked.
"No," she answered.
I could hear her voice start to whimper. She was slowly losing the fight to roll back her tears. Suddenly the water works started. I could hear pant as she tried to settle herself, but her pain was too much.
"He...he...he...fucked....he fucked...," she continued. "He....he fucked my best friend....my....my maid of honor."
"....oh....oh my God," I said. "I'm really very sorry."
I was struggling for things to say to offer some sort of condolences, but words were failing me.
As some of you know I used to be a wedding photographer. Often times I loved that job, but there were moments that made me question whether humanity had the right to exist. This was one of those times.
I remember the sitting for the couple's engagement photo. She was a striking beauty with long black hair, green eyes, and a shapely figure. Her fiance, a dopey looking gent who kind of resembles your author here, was very proud of the looks of his love and seemed very happy. My partner looked at me and I could tell we were thinking the same thing, this guy better have 10 inches to get a girl who looks like she does. They were a sweet couple though with good manners and great disposition. The shoot went so well the groom-to-be invited me to his bachelor party.
The bachelor party was unlike most I've been to. No naked ladies were present as we just hung around a bar and drank. When the subject of strippers came up the groom stated he wouldn't have anything to do with it as his lady wouldn't be happy with it. Groans came across the men in attendance and they attempted to change his mind promising to keep whatever happened that night to themselves, but he continued his protests against seeing someone without clothes on.
That night I thought to myself they would make a happy couple as he seems to love her dearly. Clearly I was mistaken.
"She....she...she...just..told me," the scorned bride continued.
I listened to the story of how he and her best friend were bumping uglies. After the fourth incident the best friend broke down and confessed to the bride about her man's infidelity.
Yes she was calling to cancel my services as a photographer, but as one in the profession is aware you're never just someone who simply takes pictures. You're often a psycho therapist and a single serving friend to many.
"I...I...I'm sorry," she said.
"You have nothing to be sorry for," I said. "I'm glad this happened before you got married."
"Yeah," she said.
"Actually, you could go ahead and marry him, then take him for everything in the divorce."
She started to laugh a bit at the idea, but then thanked me for listening to her for over an hour. I wished her the best and we said our goodbyes. She put down the phone and started sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't realize the phone was still off the hook and I could hear her scream in the background. The memory of those shouts still haunt me.
I think about her sometimes. I hope she has a good life, but the cynic in me believes she hates anything with a penis. For whatever reason I imagine numerous guys trying to convince her that loving them would be a good idea, but sadly her heart is still mending from that dumbass who couldn't get his emotional house in order. It's those people I weep for, the ones who have just given up on the idea that anything good can come to them. It only takes one person to wound someones romanticism and many never recover. Sadly there is no chemo for the cancer that is betrayal.
Thankfully for every disaster wedding story I have there are many more that are positive. This is the only thing that gives me hope that some of Earth's inhabitants are worthy of simply breathing.
"A broken heart is what makes life so wonderful five years later, when you see the guy in an elevator and he is fat and smoking a cigar and saying long-time-no-see." - Phyllis Battelle