Breaking Her

And red Louboutins, of course.  Because shoe porn.

Leona was my maid of honor, Demi a bridesmaid. 

They'd both been even more shocked than I had when they found out about Farrah.  Shocked and disgusted. 

The girls hadn't even had to kick her out.  She'd disappeared one night amid the Adelaide fallout.  None of us heard from her again.  Good riddance.   

Gina was my third and final bridesmaid.  When I asked her to do it, she cried like I'd just granted her a wish.  I still wonder all the time what I ever did to deserve such sweet, amazing people in my life. 

Bastian was the best man, but his fiancée was not invited.  Just no.  Never.  I was still waiting for her to die in a fire. 

I live on hope. 

The groomsmen were rounded out with Eugene and Anton.  I was more surprised than anyone was when I introduced Dante to Anton and the two men actually became friends.

There weren't many attendees beyond the wedding party, and that was perfect with me.  It was a beautiful, happy day, filled with laughter, friends, and love. 

We both had tears in our eyes as we watched our gorgeous little flower girl decorate the small path to the altar for us.  But they were happy tears.  Progress.

"Marriage is the most valuable, treasured friendship of your life," the officiate began.

I won't lie, we barely heard the rest, but at least it was a strong start. 

Dante and I were having a moment, staring at each other, thanking the powers that be that in spite of everything, in spite of ourselves, somehow we'd ended up here.  Together.  Joined. 

Whole again. 

"Dante Durant, love of my life," I said at the end, still drowning in his ocean deep eyes, my mascara a mess down my face.  "There aren't a lot of guarantees in life, but I promise you this:  I will never lose my faith in you again."

I saw in the way his face fell and lifted, the way his eyes melted at me, that I'd said the right thing, what he'd needed to hear.  What I'd needed to say.   

It took me time to make peace with the decisions Dante had made, even after I'd come to understand them.  He hadn't had a lot of choices and his priority, as ever, had been to protect me. 

It took me longer to come to terms with the fallout I had caused as a result. 

Some wounds time couldn't heal, this I had always known. 

But what I learned, even as I learned what it meant to forgive, was that some wounds it could. 

It was a revelation to me.

I had forgiven him and he me.

But perhaps most important of all, I had learned to forgive myself.