Peace After Pain: My Unwritten Blueprint

Matthe

rden' s tears. He hadn' t left my side, his hand

dy trembling. "Heidi, I swear, I will spend the rest of my

e slick with sweat. He' d hold me, telling me the thought of a worl

ke I was his entire world, felt like

n was a dull echo of the emotional agony that was tearing me apart from the inside. I curled up in my bed, the vast, empt

wn continued, a r

ys. It was a screenshot

r now. Meet me a

ro. I' ll

t: Sometimes being the other wom

re a mix of awe

is he ta

ret island? This is

uch he loves you. He'

the top: He is a man torn between duty and desi

phone rang.

he said, his vo

I asked, my own

go for a last-minute client meeting. I feel ter

I could hear the wind whi

I asked calmly. "More important th

unt on his end. "I... uh... yes. It is. I' m so

harp intake of breath.

long. Ten minutes later

wept, standing on a balcony overlooking th

to play the part, but he keeps whispering that I' m the only one

ments e

gically beautiful th

aches for

a boutique hotel I recognized. They posted pictures of champagne on the beach, calling each other "My Kin

frozen, dead thing in my ch

up the phone and

ce cracking for the fir

unt. The dress. The three years

of the line. Then my father, Glen Barnett,

need, sweetheart. You just

t me. And I need you to make sure the presentation s

were setting up in the bridal suite I would never use, I was at JFK, boarding a flight to Paris. "For a

w York' s elite. The Ellis and Matthews families, tit

vision in her blush-pink maid of honor dress. She looked radiant, but my mother, who missed nothing, later t

ything, descended on him like a hawk. "Arden, where have you bee

realized he hadn' t seen Heidi. He hadn' t spoken to her in two days. He had assum

starting to beat a little faster. He told

their seats. The officiant took his place. The e

ing voice, announced, "Ladies and g

prickle of unease. He looked over at Dallas, who stood primly in her spot

s were grim, but they were here. That had to mean something. He felt a wave of

voice echoing slightly in the vast room,

ugh the crowd. The host cleared his throat, looking tow

called out again, his voice

allroom plunged

e room. Arden' s heart

altar, the ones meant to display a romantic sl

t our faces

of a private Instagram

ke of breath swep

g my wedding dress, my veil. The caption burned in white letters against th

hand holding the pearl from my veil. The bolognese he' d cooked for her. The Montauk trip. The text messa

omment section. The vile suggestion that

a damning red circle, was the single,

ilypad