The door opened, a wry smile ying on my lips, but the room fell silent.


    Every eye was on me, a mix of embarrassment and difort etched on their faces.


    My fiancey cradled in a woman''s arms a woman whose face was intimately familiar from hisptop.


    Antonio''s friends, unprepared for my sudden arrival, scrambled to pull him away from Mandy.


    He, wasted and oblivious, roared, "Back off! Leave me alone!"


    I''d ever seen him like this; alcohol was not his vice.


    One friend hissed, "Grace''s here! Get it together! You''re getting married."


    The others joined the effort, finally separating Antonio and Mandy.


    After a few tense minutes, Antonio plopped onto the couch, his face flushed.


    One friend finally exhaled, turning to me.


    "This is Mandy, an old high school friend. She''s back from Nardoven for the party. Antonio is wasted. Don''t take it personally."


    A piece of my mind would have been unleashed on Antonio years ago,


    Now, I could only manage a strained grin.


    "Are you Antonio''s friend?" Mandy, assessing me with curious eyes, asked.


    Antonio''s friend began, "This is Antonio''s fiancee."


    Antonio cut him off, his voice sharp. "No, we''re just friends!"


    My fists clenched, nails biting into my palms.


    The room shifted ufortably, sympathy heavy in the air.


    This wasn''t the first time Antonio had hidden our rtionship.


    The Facebook silence, the avoidance at work, the refusal to invite our families - the signs had been there.


    I''d been in denial, gambling eight years of my life on a hope that proved tragically misced.


    I stered on a smile, shaking


    shand. "Hi, I''m Grace Parrish,


    I of Antonio''s. You look even


    more beautiful in person.


    WContent


    The room fell deadly silent.


    Mandyughed it off, grabbing snacks.


    Antonio, suddenly alert, sat up straight. "You''re allergic to nuts!"


    Mandy''s hand froze. "Sweetheart, these are potato chips. You''re drunk.''


    My heart shattered. Antonio had never truly cared about my feelings.


    "Grace, are you crying?" someone asked, noticing my tears.


    I touched my cheek, the wetness cold against my skin.


    Why was I crying?


    I had given my prime years to a fraud.


    I''d tried to correct him countless times.


    My severe seafood allergy, ignored as he repeatedly chose seafood restaurants for our dates.


    Initially furious, I''d excused it as stress and forgetfulness.


    I pulled him to his feet, silent.


    Downstairs, Mandy followed.


    "Antonio has a sensitive stomach. He can''t sleep hungry. Maybe you could make him something?" she said.


    He''d never mentioned this.


    At the car, Mandy stopped me again.


    "Can I


    needve your number? In


    case he


    needs something in the middle the night."


    "He is restless after drinking, but honey water usually helps," She persisted.


    My nails bit into my palms. Tears prickled my eyes.


    I met her gaze, lost and forlorn, and gave in.


    We exchanged numbers. Then I saw


    it –


    -


    Aacebook cover photo:


    5 and Mandy, kissing


    Wa


    beach, a kiss that felt brutally real.