It was my wedding day. I was sitting on a velvet upholstered stool after getting my makeup done by a celebrity makeup artist who flew in this morning specifically for me and my impending bliss. I was wearing a custom Vera Wang bridal gown with a gossimer veil draped around my shoulders. My veil had also been customized with inlaid Swarovski crystals that trailed around elven sentences from my favorite book, The Lord of The Rings.

From my window inside the Shangri-La Hotel, I could simply look out and see the lit-up Eiffel tower in the distance. It was a beautiful, cool evening in summer and nothing could possibly be more perfect.

Except, nothing was perfect. Everything was all very, very wrong.

My exquisite makeup was in black smears beneath my eyes and on the pristine white of my satin, elbow-length gloves. I was sobbing like a little bitch in front of the man of my dreams as he sat on the stool in front of mine with his hands in his lap, looking completely poised, calm...and perfect.

"I know. You have every right to be angry with me. It's just...I really don't think it's the right time to be getting married. I feel like there is so much left for me to discover and learn about the world and--"

"Wait, wait! Did this epiphany occur to you before, or after you cheated?" I interjected with a bitter scowl, making me appear even more...radiant.

"Come on, Angelina, don't be like that."

My fiance, Viru drew back with a sigh. Was he serious right now? Ten more minutes and we were supposed to be walking down an incredibly lavish wedding aisle covered on either sides with his family and friends, and my one relative; my mom.

How did I find myself here? I began to ask myself. I didn't consider myself to be the dimwit who couldn't tell if her boyfriend loved her or not, but I guess cheaters came in all shapes and sizes, wrapped in pretty bowties and spouting articulate promises of love.

Five years...I had been with this perfect, amazing man for five years. We had created an entire life itinerary around our goals, our future kids, our fucking dream chateau in France!

I had met Viru through a blind date set up by my friends. He was an investor, a talented one at that. He could talk circles around anyone on wall street about what was hot and what was a dead end. He could snap his fingers and have several start-up businesses flourishing. He was intelligent, cunning, incredibly handsome in that blue blood sort of way with the clean cut blonde hair and striking blue eyes.

I, on the other hand, was an author. Albeit a successful one, but also an incredibly outspoken, artsy-fartsy, nonfiltered one. Thinking about it now, it's hard to even guess why he would take one look at me. Just nearing height at five'three, I wasn't exactly a super model. More like a step up from one of the munchkins in that old Wizard of Oz movie complete with the never-ending mouth. My hair was dull brown, straight and mortal enemies with all curling irons. My eyes were probably my most attractive feature about me. They were violet. It was an unusual color, but it was my color and I loved it.

Except now, they were red, puffy and surrounded by big, grotesque black circles of mascara.

"You're serious...you're completely serious." I muttered, staring at him in dumbfounded shock.

He sighed again, making me want to reach out and slap his perfect, handsome face. He looked back at me in...pity?!

"I'm sorry, Angelina, I really am. It's just...your mother and I..."

Excuse me, what?

"What about my mom?" I whispered as I could feel the blood quickly draining from my face. He stood to his feet and walked to the window, gaining safe distance from me. Smart man.

"Angelina...I hate to tell you this way. I waited way too long. God, I'm so sorry." He said on another fucking sigh. I was beginning to lose my sanity at this point and I snapped at him while standing to my feet.

"Just say it! I've got nothing left to lose, right?!

He looked at me with big, blue sad eyes. When his mouth opened, my mind flew away like the birds skirting around the Eiffel Tower.

"I'm in love with your mother. We...we've been in love for a long time and I wasn't sure how to tell you. I realized I couldn't live a life with you while I wanted her the whole time. It just wouldn't be fair...to either of us. Hey, are you okay?"

I was out the door in seconds. My head was pounding with inner screams of rage and mortification as I marched down the lavish hallway of the Shangri-La in my wedding dress.

Nearing the double doors that led out to the courtyard where all our guests were waiting for the ceremony to begin, I raised both my hands and braced them against the doors before swinging them wide open and stomping down the aisle. The entire walkway was lit up with twinkling lights overhead, casting a romantic golden glow over the ceremony.

I could hear the murmurs and alarmed whispers from people all around me, yet my eyes were fixated on only one person. Sitting in the front row of white fold-out chairs, my lovely mother- the exact opposite of me in every way- perched prettily in her seat, flicking a silken lock of her white blonde hair over one slender bare shoulder. I was wondering why she had decided to wear white today as well...

When she heard me approach, she looked back at me with a smile plastered across her cherry red lips. Although, the smile quickly fell from her face when she noticed the look of rage on mine.

"HOW COULD YOU?!" I screamed in her face as I shoved my bouquet into her chest, scattering orchid petals everywhere. She raised her hands in defense with a wild look of terror. The other guests began talking loudly then, one of the older gentleman sitting across from my mother stood to his feet to intervene. I didn't give a shit.

"Sweety, hold on, just listen." She started to say in that annoying high-pitched voice of hers. I had no mind to listen to anything that came out of her mouth. She was my only living relative. I had trusted her, been close to her as much as a black sheep, ugly author of a daughter could be to a glowingly beautiful mother who was the height of society.

She was a clothing designer. She even helped me design my own wedding gown for crying out-loud! This was betrayal to the highest standard and I was ill-equipped to handle it.

"Shut it, you slut-faced old bat! Don't ever speak to me again, do you understand?! God!!!! Oh my god!!!" I was reeling, flailing my hands and sobbing right in front of hundreds of our wedding guests.

The one man who had stood to intervene seemed to have taken a few steps backwards, probably realizing it wasn't the brightest idea to approach a crazed, golemn-faced bride.

I couldn't stop screaming, until I did. Then I punched her.

The guests erupted into shouts of alarm, Viru was running down the aisle with a look of panic and my mother was currently toppling over backwards into the throng of fold-out chairs.

"Angelina!" Viru called out. I roared in anger and immediately felt like a wild woman in her element. Fuck society! Fuck these mother fuckers!

I picked up one of the fold-out chairs and threw it at him with all my strength. To my happy surprise, it rammed into his nose, sending a spurt of blood down his perfectly trimmed tuxedo. The men in the crowd started to run towards me then. I flipped them all a middle finger while tearing across the manicured lawn towards the half stone wall. Picking up my heavy skirts and kicking up dirt in the grass with my white heels, I leapt over the wall and went crashing onto the sidewalk on the other side. I nearly fell into a jogger as they were going past, causing them to shout and stumble out of my way.

"Move it, asshole!" I screamed in crazed anger as he tried to help me to my feet.

"Geez okay, wow." He said, stepping away with both hands raised. I gathered up my dress again and began to run down the sidewalk of Paris. I had no idea where I was going, no clue what I was even doing. All I knew was that I had to get out of there, away from everyone and everything.

The lights of the city were glaringly bright in the night and cars were rushing past me, honking and weaving through heavy traffic. I could barely see any of it thanks to all the tears blocking my vision. I turned a corner and ran down another sidewalk away from the bustling traffic. I ran until my lungs felt as if they would burst. I ran into my legs were heavy and shaking. I ran until I couldn't run anymore, being blessedly stopped by a large gaping river.

I slumped to the ground in my wedding dress right there next to the stone edge that separated me from the murkey depths. The only light visable now was from the dim glow being cast down by the street lamps.

I couldn't believe my life had turned out this way. What horrific deeds must I have done in a past life to deserve this monstrosity I now found myself in. I was even more enraged about my own mixed feelings. A part of me was enraged at Viru and my mother, yet another part of me was absolutely terrified to be without him. I wanted to run back and beg him to stay with me, to love me and continue living a happy, fake life full of insane, fake, bullshit. That wasn't an option though. I was just scared to be alone. In Paris, France. With no one to turn to.