His expression twisted.
“I just didn’t know how to end things.”
“So you died?”
He had no response.
I removed the florist badge from my clothing and looked directly at him.
“You were right about one thing.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Something went wrong today.”
Then I turned and walked away.
I didn’t destroy a single flower.
I didn’t make a dramatic speech.
Neither one mattered.
Sarah walked out through the front entrance with her father.
The guests began whispering among themselves.
Julian vanished into the ceremony room to explain whatever he possibly could.
Colleen lowered herself against the hallway wall and began crying.
Adrian remained standing alone in the suit he had originally purchased for our wedding.
For months, I had believed that losing Adrian was the worst thing that had ever happened to me.
As I walked out of that venue, I finally understood something.
I hadn’t lost the man I was meant to marry.
I had discovered exactly who he was before I married him.
There was a difference.
And for the first time since his funeral, I no longer felt like a grieving fiancée.
I felt like Meredith again.
So here is the real question: When someone lets you grieve a life they never lost, do you still want answers, or is walking away the only closure you need?
