Chapter 2 No.2

About ten minutes later, I'd been handed a plain red t-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, and some wedge sandals, and the relief of being within reach of wearing something normal was immense.

Darting into the changing room with the assistant waiting outside, I dove into a changing cubicle, and clocked the utter mess that was standing before the mirror.

How long had I looked like this?!

I'd been so fixated on the fact that I was wearing a ruined wedding dress, that I had completely overlooked what state my head was in �C mentally as well as physically. With mascara smudged under my eyes and my hair in a state of disarray, with my veil and tiara all askew, I looked like I'd been on an all-night bender. Even if I changed into some normal clothes, I would still look an eyesore!

Popping my head out of the cubicle, the assistant turned to me.

"Does this shop by any chance sell baby wipes, a brush, and some make up?" I asked, with the distinct knowledge of knowing what mess the sales assistant was looking at right now.

"Yes, of course, I can get them for you! I won't be a moment!" she announced, darting off somewhere unknown.

The sales assistant was my lifeline at this point, and I hoped she would get some form of a raise in the near future. She needed hazard pay to be dealing with me.

Removing my dress, the weight was literally falling off me, and I hadn't realised how heavy the thing was. How I had managed to lug this dress with my size eight frame was beyond me, and I wondered whether that could be some form of exercise. "Wedding Dress Zumba" should be a thing they'd have buns of steel in no time.

It felt lovely to remove the stockings and suspenders, yet I thought it would have been my husband doing that for me later on. Obviously not. After slipping on the t-shirt, shorts, and sandals, apart from the head region, I already looked better. About five minutes later, there was a knock on the cubicle wall. Opening the curtain, the assistant was back, with everything that I required. I loved her!

"Thank you so much," I spoke, smiling and practically snatching the items off her like my life depended on it.

Getting back to my make-under, I scraped the veil and tiara out of my tangled hair and winced when it pulled at some strands. It had been welded into my hair, and it showed how good the stylist had been, because it certainly wasn't going anywhere for a normal wedding day.

Dragging the brush through my locks, I was relieved that the hairspray melted away and my hair fell nicely down my back when I'd unpinned my up-do. Then using the baby wipes, I wiped the make-up off that was smeared on my face, and I felt better already. The assistant had handed me some lip gloss and mascara, so carefully placing some on with my shaky hands, I looked cooler, calmer, and effectively normal.

After giving myself the nod of approval and a glance over in the mirror, I looked so much better than before. I looked like me, and not the Bride of Frankenstein that had walked in earlier on. Scooping up the wedding dress and accessories in my arms, I made my way out of the changing cubicle, with a smile forming across the sales assistant��s face, which told me everything I needed to know about how much better I looked.

"Can you do me one last favour?" I asked, making my way over to her.

"Yes, of course," she replied, eyeing me strangely.

Would you want to do this crazy lady anymore favours? I would be reluctant.

"Could you get rid of this, please," I asked, lumping the wedding dress into her arms.

"But�� but, what do you want me to do with it?" she asked, nearly being crippled under the mass of white silk.

"Bin it, burn it, sell it�� throw it a bloody funeral, for all I care." I sifted through my bag and pulled out the first thing I found a ten-pound note. "Here," I voiced, placing it in her pocket. "Thanks so much for your help today."

"Oh, er, you're very welcome," she replied, still juggling the wedding junk.

Making my way over to the till and paying for what I was wearing, I felt like me again, and I was ready to fly away and never come back. Well, for a week, anyway.

Shoving the receipt into my bag, it was time to go and have a wander around to see what I could fill the time with before boarding my flight. This was the part that I was supposed to have been enjoying with Scott, but I couldn't stomach any more 'what ifs' for the time being. I was worn out with it all.

Making my way out of the shop, the difference in not being stared at was apparent. Nobody was whispering and looking my way, and they probably didn't even think it was the same woman that had come out of the shop. They were probably hoping the other one had been carted off by security and thrown out of the back door. This airport was my sanctuary for the next few hours, and I wanted to blend in and chill out for the remainder of my time here.

Heading to another shop, I was so pleased I had everything on hand in my trusty flight bag, so I bought myself a good book to read, some nice perfume which I thought could be the scent of new beginnings, and also a bite to eat before making my way to the passenger lounge area.

Finally being able to take a seat and actively acknowledge where I was, I could hear a sound coming from my bag it was my mobile phone, making all sorts of weird noises when it was squished under my things.

Pulling it out, I was amazed to see a multitude of missed phone calls from Scott, and a billion and one text messages from my parents, trying to find out where I'd run off to. My heart went out to my mum and dad. They'd financed the vast majority of my wedding, and it had all come to nothing.

Maybe I should've kept my wedding dress and sold it to get some money back? Then again, how was I ever to cart it on a plane with me? It had to go.

Luckily my parents weren't of the poor variety, and they would understand eventually.

Completely ignoring Scott's begging messages to call him, which was never going to happen, I bypassed his pleas to text my mum and dad and tell them I was fine. Well, I wasn't fine, but I was alive and going to Barbados, so it wasn't all bad.

About thirty seconds after texting my parents, my mum had gotten back to me, asking me to let her know when I had landed, and that although it was chaos at their end, she would deal with it.

That was the point that I felt really guilty. I hadn't been thinking straight at the church, and now I'd left my parents to deal with the mess that I had created. Then again, Scott had created the mess, and I had only created the aftermath. It wasn't a one-sided thing. I knew my mum would understand that I wouldn't have run away like that for nothing, and hopefully, in time, all could be explained and be well.

Even though they didn't need the money, I'd already hatched a plan to pay them back, and it would come in the form of getting shut of the house that me and Scott had not long bought together our 'forever home'. Yuck. It was a beautiful house, but I did wonder whether he'd been shagging my so-called friend in it.

When I got back, I would look into getting rid of my supposed 'home' and pay them back from the money that we had lumped together for a deposit. It was the least I could do and certainly the least that that idiot, Scott, could do.

Thank goodness I hadn't married him I'd had a lucky escape. I would have to move back in with my parents, and whilst I didn't mind that fact, I did resent my darling fianc�� for wasting my precious time. If I would have been with a man who deserved me, then I would have been married now and living in a lovely house one that I'd had my eye on for ages. Instead, at the age of twenty-six, I was to be moving back in with my parents and starting from scratch with my love life. I was taking a step back, instead of moving forward.

Bastard.

Turning my phone off after speaking to my mum, it wouldn��t be switched back on until the end of this holiday. There was no way I was being harassed by Scott, thinking that he could ruin my getaway. He ruined enough. Shoving my mobile phone back into my bag, it could stay there whilst I dealt with unscrambling everything else that was going on in my head. Scott could wait until I got back home. I��d already wasted too much of my life on him, and I had to figure out how I was going to handle this situation.

Talking of taking steps forward, when I had read over half of my book, ate some food, over-thought everything, and took a look around some more shops in a bid to distract myself, it was nearing the time of departure. I was glad to be finally getting on board the plane, because being stuck in an airport on my own wasn't that much fun. There was only so much that you could do here, and apart from an older couple striking up a bit of a conversation about where they were heading off to, I hadn't had much communication with anyone.

To be fair, I really didn't have the energy for anymore interaction. I felt physically, mentality, and emotionally drained, and I wanted to sit on the plane and let myself drift through the air and forget about everything for a while.

Hopefully.