Hooking Wayne

Elena’s POV

Weddings are supposed to be happy days, right? That’s what everyone says. They say you are supposed to be filled with smiles and love and tears of joy, surrounded by family and your loved ones.

Weddings are not supposed to be filled with undignified sadness and tears, enough to fill a damn decorative mason jar, or worse, tears from unsuccessful or recently divorced family members.

But here I am, sitting in my car, crying my eyes out because my little sister is marrying the love of her life this weekend, and I just signed my divorce papers earlier this week.

I can’t force myself to get out and face it all.

Don’t get me wrong; I am beyond thrilled for my little sister. Kris has always been a cynic when it comes to love, so the fact that she’s about to walk down the aisle and exchange vows is monumental. It’s an even bigger deal because she’s marrying NHL superstar Robb Jenner, but that’s a topic for a different discussion.

Watching her get a perfect life she never really wanted when I was the little girl who planned her wedding at five years old and thought I had found my happily ever after? Yeah, it hurts.

Not nearly as much as finding out your husband had a mistress and they’d been sleeping together before you got married, but it still hurts.

I swipe at the tears running down my cheeks, frustrated by them — my tears and my ex-husband and his mistress. As embarrassing as it was when Kris came home to tell my mother and me she was engaged, I cried then too. In front of her. Like straight up just burst into tears like an awful big sister.

After that whole mess, there is no way I can walk inside looking like this.

Another tear slides down my cheek, and I swipe it. I am not going to ruin my sister’s big day with my silly tears.

An old beat-up truck blasting music so loudly it’s rattling my windows comes careening into the parking lot, whipping into the space next to mine as if it belongs here. I know for a fact it does not.

My brows slam together in frustration because the jerk doesn’t even bother turning the music down. Doesn’t he know two people who are deeply in love are inside about to rehearse a ceremony so tomorrow they can start a new life together?

Ugh!

A set of fresh tears streaks down my cheeks at the thought. I close my eyes shut, trying to push away the thoughts of what I’ve lost, then wipe my face again, which I’m sure is a mess. I pull down the sun visor to check the tiny mirror inside, and — yep, I’m a mess. Streaks of black run down my cheeks, and a mess of makeup sits under each eye. All because my favorite mascara wasn’t available in waterproof.

It’s not a huge shock, though. Nothing has gone right since I was blindsided by my unfaithful ex-husband.

My car was backed into, and the driver took off…in a parking lot that had no cameras.

I was detained for shoplifting because the cashier didn’t want to believe me that the candy bar wrapper in the cart wasn’t mine, and I was feeling petty enough to argue.

Oh, and that haircut I gave myself? I was butchered, leaving me with a short bob, which I did not want.

It’s been a challenging couple of months, to say the least.

The only positive is that this divorce hasn’t been dragged out any longer than necessary. Thad granted me the divorce when he realized I had copies of his text messages. You’d think, being a lawyer, he would have done a better job of covering his tracks, but nope. He left everything out right there for me to see. A part of me wondered if he did it on purpose. The way he acted in the months before our wedding — like how he wasn’t invested in the planning and was picking fights — should have been a red flag, but I was too caught up in the years I’d put into our relationship and what I wanted for my future to see it for what it was.

Lies.

All big lies.

I should have listened to my best friend, Alisha, when she said Thad was a douchebag who shouldn’t be trusted. Sure, she said it when she was drunk, but there’s truth to our intoxicated ramblings, right?

“His name is Thad, Elena. That should tell you everything you need to know about the douchebag.”

In hindsight, she was right.

I wish she were here now. She always makes me laugh. But I have to suffer through tonight alone.

Tomorrow, though…tomorrow we drink. And then drink some more. I already know I’m going to need it.

With a sigh, I reach across my car — a hush gift from Thad since he didn’t want his wrongdoings to be revealed to his colleagues at the firm — to pop open the glove box.

And…nothing.

Not a damn thing.

“The one time I don’t have ten billion napkins shoved in there…”

I slam it closed, then lean my head back against the seat, trying not to cry yet again. I don’t need an even bigger mess to clean up.

“Ugh. Get ahold of yourself, Elena. You’re acting ridiculous. It’s just a napkin. That’s it. It’s a napkin.”

Tears sting my eyes again because it’s not just a napkin — it’s a wedding too, a wedding I am certainly going to bawl my way through, and not exactly for all the right reasons.

I squeeze my eyes shut to block out all the negative thoughts that are hurtling their way through my mind and take a deep breath.

Then another.

And one…

“OH, MY GOD!”