I spent the day after my wedding hiding in the bridal suite, curled up on the edge of the ornate bed that seemed to mock me with its pristine, untouched sheets. Housekeeping had knocked twice, but I ignored them, unable to face anyone or explain why the bride was alone on what should have been the first day of marital bliss.
A small, pathetic part of me kept glancing at the door, hoping Raymond might return. But the hours dragged on, and the door remained closed. My phone buzzed occasionally with congratulations I didn't deserve for a happiness I didn't have.
As evening approached, hunger finally overcame my desire for isolation. I reasoned that most wedding guests would have left by now, and I could sneak down to the hotel restaurant without facing pitying glances.
I applied enough mak
