Our wedding day was seem to be perfect. I had my makeup done and the dress fit like a dream, and my bridesmaids were taking pictures because we laughed about this morning.

“Oh, Chelsea!” my maid of honor, Lia, reported when she saw me all done up. “You look stunning! J is not going to know what hit him when he sees you, my goodness.”

But everything fell apart in a way I never imagine.
It started with J’s best man, Chad, rushing toward me, pale-faced and frantic.

“I need to talk to you,” he said. “Now, Chels.”

“Where’s J?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.

“He’s gone…” Chad said.

“What do you mean? Gone where? How long will he be?”

“He left. He got into a car and drove off. No one can reach him.”

I was frozen in my spot.

I didn’t cry immediately. Instead, I held it together for as long as I could.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “J has left… I don’t know what else to tell you all. Please, get some food and drinks.”

Image for illustrative purpose only.
How could J do this to me? And without any explanation?
After I spent hours ignoring people knocking on the door to the bridal suite and silencing my phone after the first ten phone calls from my family and friends, I left.

I went back to the apartment we’d shared. It was empty.

J had taken all his things. And I mean everything.

My phone rang again.

“Chelsea! Finally! Where are you? Are you okay? Do you want to talk?”

“I’m fine. I’m home. But I need some time out, okay?” I said. “Tell everyone to just give me a minute, please, Lia.”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “Let me know when you need me. I’ll be right here. I’m just a call away.”

“Thanks,” I said, cutting the call quickly.

I couldn’t listen to her voice any longer and not break down.

How long had he been planning this?

“Lia,” I said on the phone. “Pack your bags. We’re going on my honeymoon tomorrow. Greece, baby!”

Amazingly, she didn’t argue. Instead, she said she’d get packed and would call a car to get us the next day.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this,” Lia said.

Then, one Tuesday afternoon, while I was doing my weekly grocery shopping, my phone buzzed with a message that shattered the peace I had worked so hard to find.

Image for illustrative purpose only.
It was from him.
“Hey, Chelsea. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I need to talk to you. I owe you an explanation. Please meet me. I need to apologize.”

I stared at the text, my heart pounding in my chest. Why now?

I had a new boyfriend now, Edward. He was steady and kind and had been there for me through everything.

After talking it through with Edward, who, to his credit, encouraged me to do whatever felt right, I agreed to meet J at a nearby park.

When I saw J sitting on a bench under a tree, he looked different—thinner, with tired eyes and the weight of guilt etched into every line of his face.

I sat down beside him, unsure of where to begin.

Let him speak first, I thought to myself.

Eventually, he broke the silence.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “For everything.”

“Why now, J?” I asked. “Why reach out after all this time?”

He took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t in a good place back then. I thought I could do it. I thought I could marry you and live the life everyone expected. But I was ly:ing to myself. I was using drugs. I was che:a:ting on you. And….”

“And what?”

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“And I was struggling with my s3xuality.”

“What?” I surprised.

“I loved you, of course,” he said.

“But I also loved someone else. And I thought that marrying you would keep everything together. I couldn’t understand what I felt for… him. But I also knew that my family wouldn’t accept it. I barely accepted it.”

“You were living a double life?” I asked.

He gave me a sad smile.

After a moment of silence, I stood up.

“Take care of yourself, J,” I said. “I hope you find peace.”

Although meeting with J hadn’t given me the closure I thought I needed, it did remind me of one important thing: The life I have now, the love I have now… it’s worth so much more than the heartbreak I left behind.