Rom-Com Collection

The rat bastard got in, started the car and gave her father a wave. She waved, too, her head fizzy with adrenaline.

She’d fly to San Francisco, stay at the Mark, where she and Jeremy had been booked for four nights, their wedding gift from his parents. Liza could come, and they’d drink the honeymoon champagne, and, hell, maybe they’d take that Napa wine country tour, too.

She didn’t look at Levi, and he didn’t talk. Too bad he hadn’t been stricken mute on the altar.

She stared out the window, cushioned in a bitter fog. Occasionally, people would see that she was wearing a big white dress or that Levi was in his dress blues, and they’d beep their horns and wave. Her face felt carved out of stone.

After an eternity or so, they got to the swooping Buffalo-Niagara Airport, so oddly beautiful, and went in. People congratulated them. She didn’t answer. For the first time since her mother died, she didn’t try to be nice to anyone. Just showed her ID and her ticket and passed through the gate, getting some odd looks from the screeners. Guess they hadn’t seen a jilted bride yet. “My fiancé turned out to be gay,” she said to one. Blue woofed and wagged his tail.

“Oh, wow,” the woman said. “You didn’t know?”

“No. He did, though,” she said, jerking her chin at Levi. Then she put on her ridiculously pretty shoes, grabbed her carry-on—damn, it was heavy—and went to the waiting area at her gate, which was only about ten yards away, and sat down. Looked at the clock. Seven hours till her flight. Maybe she’d have a seizure to pass the time. Stress brought them on sometimes. It’d be better than sitting here, having to think about Jeremy. Just the thought of his name caused a sob to heave in her chest. Blue flopped down on the floor, wagging his tail as a toddler passed him.

Levi was talking to someone. You’re not a ticket-holder, asshole, she thought. So, there. But, no. He was telling the screener all sorts of things, scraps of his words floating to her—wedding fell through, her friend, don’t want her waiting alone.

Her friend. What a crock that was. But Mr. Hero got through; who could turn down a guy in uniform, home on leave from the war on terror? He came toward her now, his eyes resigned, mouth in a straight line.

Before he got to her, Faith wrapped Blue’s leash around the chair leg and got up and went to the ladies’ room, dragging her suitcase with her. The handicapped stall was the only one big enough with this ridiculous dress. She reached back and yanked at the buttons, yanked harder, tearing a few loops, then wriggled free, hopping, banging her shoulder against the wall. Out of the white merry widow and stockings, out of the beautiful white shoes that peeped so endearingly from under her skirt. She’d packed all sorts of cute underwear, adorable bra and panty sets, silky short nighties. Pretty little outfits for daytime, lovely dresses for those romantic dinners she and Jeremy wouldn’t be having.

She changed into some yoga pants, a tank top and sneakers—she’d been planning to exercise on her honeymoon to keep the extra pounds off, not be one of those wives who immediately began letting herself go the second the wedding was over. Oh, no. Not her.

Then she wadded up her dress and banged out of the stall. Paused, debating whether or not to stuff it into the trash. What does one do with a wedding dress when one has been jilted? Yes, Martha Stewart or Miss Manners or Amy Dixon, what does one do? One certainly doesn’t want to preserve it for one’s daughter, not when one won’t be having a daughter any time soon, since one’s fiancé is gay.

She remembered calling Jeremy after she’d bought the dress. Daddy had taken all of them to Corning, to a beautiful bridal shop, and the very first dress she’d tried on had brought tears to his eyes. She’d called Jeremy to tell him mission accomplished, and he’d said, his voice warm and loving, that he knew she’d be the most beautiful bride ever, because she had the most beautiful heart. (Gah! How could she have thought he was straight?) Then she’d talked to his mom, to tell her all the details, and Elaine had been so touched that she’d cried.

Oh, lordy. There were those strange choking noises again.

She didn’t throw the dress away. She couldn’t. Instead, she walked out of the bathroom, the dress under her arm, dragging the suitcase behind her. Levi was watching the door, talking on the phone, to Jeremy, no doubt. Because those two had no secrets. He hung up as she approached.

“Do something with this,” she said to Levi, shoving her dress against his chest and continuing on to a row of hard plastic chairs where her dog waited.

In six hours and forty-three minutes, she’d be out of New York.

Levi sat next to her, stowing her dress under his chair. “Can I get you anything?”

“No, thank you. How long have you known?” She didn’t look at him.

Levi didn’t answer for a minute or two. Finally, she kicked his foot and glared at him. He looked bored. How dare he look bored? The bastard!

“I guess I always knew.” Blue rolled onto his back, letting them know he was available for tummy-scratching any time.

“Really. You knew from the minute you met him.”

“Pretty much.”

“How?” she demanded, looking at his face. “Did he try to kiss you, something like that?”

“Nope.”

“But you just knew.”

“Yep.”

“And you never said anything?”

Levi shrugged. “I asked him about it once. He said he wasn’t.”

“Really? Well, what about me, Levi? Did you ever think to say something to me? Huh?”

He deigned to look at her, his green eyes expressionless. “People believe what they want to believe.”

“Well, you know what?” she said, her voice rising. “You should’ve tried. I love Jeremy! I love him! I’m so in love with him, it kills me! Don’t you get that?” Blue barked, backing her up. Blue loved Jeremy, too. Great. Another victim in the war.

“I believe you,” Levi said. “Maybe you could quiet it down a little, though, huh?”

“Why? Am I embarrassing you? Am I making a scene? Don’t you know what it feels like to have your heart ripped open? Do you have any idea? My whole life is gone! You took that away! You just had to say something, didn’t you? You had to open your mouth!”

Then she was crying, so hard she was choking, and she jammed her hands into her hair and bent over, the sounds coming out of her alien and horrifying. How would she get over Jeremy? What kind of a life was she going to have without him? Already she missed him so much it was as if someone had shoved a hot poker through her heart. Blue nudged against her, and she buried her head against her dog’s neck.

She felt Levi’s arm around her shoulders and shrugged him off. Like she’d allow him to comfort her.

“I hate you,” she managed to say, the words strangled on her sobs.

“Yeah, well, win some, lose some,” he muttered, folding his arms and sighing.

“Just go.”

“I told Jeremy I’d stay.”

And, of course, Jeremy wouldn’t want her here alone. Because even now, he was trying to take care of her. Even now, Jeremy still loved her. And was gay.

The crying was endless, as if she was being punched in the chest with each breath, tears pouring out of her eyes, which Blue licked away, whining. People probably thought she was mentally unstable; she sure as hell felt that way. Her rational thoughts were just distant pings; it seemed like she was being sucked under by waves of grief and shock, barely able to breathe.

Levi got up—probably to ask someone for a tranquilizer—and returned with a roll of paper towels. “I couldn’t find any tissues,” he said, taking his seat once more. Blue had given up and was sleeping, his head on her foot. She grabbed the roll and blew her nose, then took a few more and mopped at her face. The tears kept falling.

And now Levi was looking at her with those eyes of his that always seemed to be so bored with her. “Look, Faith, I know this is hard for you. But would you rather be married to a gay man?” he asked calmly.

“Yes! In the case of Jeremy, yes! You didn’t do me any favors, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t thinking of you,” he said, glancing out the window.

“No. You were being the world’s best friend, outing Jeremy on the altar during our wedding. Well done, Levi. Really. Maybe you’ll get another medal.”

“Faith,” he said, “let me ask you a question. What were you thinking during the wedding? Because your face was as white as your dress, and Jeremy was sweating blood. It was a disaster waiting to happen. And if it did, he never would’ve left you.”

“We would’ve made it work.”

“That’s ridiculous. You both would’ve been trapped.”