The Man I Left at the Altar

When you have the man of your dreams, and a fairy tale wedding with friends and family to watch, you should be happy, right?

Any bride-to-be would be jumping with joy to be married to a man who was as beautiful as the Greek gods, and as wealthy as the Top 1% in the country.

Any bride would be ecstatic to see her parents’ and family congregated to witness the most important day of her life.

Any bride to be would be awed and mystified at the grandeur and beauty of the wedding location.

But, not me.

I was downright scared to my bones.

Clutching the bouquet of white roses in my hand, I slipped my cold hand to my father’s arm. His eyes were full of light, while mine were pure of terror. He must have noticed it because he frowned at me under his eyes.

“Are you alright, sweetie?” he asked worriedly. I licked my lips, careful not to say the wrong thing, when the hymn to my favorite ballad began to play. It was our turn to walk the aisle.

I didn’t get to answer him when the oak doors opened and awed gasps of our guests filled the silence. White daisies, tulips and dahlias filled the place. Fairy lights glittered on the ceiling, and golden candelabras lined the aisle.

At the end of the aisle was my husband-to-be, Dark Montero. Even from afar I could feel the love and happiness radiating off of him. My chest constricted with love and pain.

I love him. But I was scared to spend my forever with him. So, without any goodbye, I removed my hand from my father’s arm and ran away from the man I love.