"I told you to leave minutes ago, but you didn't," he says. "Now, I'm going to make you leave."
He throws me to the ground. I land with an 'oof', the breath leaving my lungs.
"Oh my god! Someone call security!" Someone screams, and just like that people rush to my aid.
They manage to tug Tristan from me before he gets another hit in. I'm roughly surrounded, laying beneath a sea of heels, shoes and sequins while I pray that I'm not trampled upon.
I curl into a ball, the crowd dispersing slowly, and I sob. My lungs squeeze tight, the memories of my sweet Tristan cross my mind. It makes me wonder where he went.
Or if this cruel Tristan was there all along but I was too blind to see it.
"Get up, ma'am." I'm yanked from the floor by two security guards.
My eyes find Tristan immediately. He sits at the far end covered in cake while his bride and others fuss over him.
He glares at me, and if looks could kill... I'd be six feet under.
As I'm dragged out of the garden and the hotel, the only question in my mind is "why?".
"Wren, oh my goodness." Judi runs to me. "I came as soon as I could."
"Do you know her?" One of the security men asks her.
She nods. "Of course, she's my friend. I'll take her from here."
They deposit me into Judi's arms and I crumble, almost taking both of us down. Judi grapples for me and we manage to get to her car in one piece.
She pulls out of the hotel.
"W-why?" My voice cracks, tears stinging the mark on my cheek. "I d-don't understand."
She reaches over to squeeze my hand. "He's a horrible person, Wren. He made you look like a fool, hit you, and humiliated you."
"W-was that in the media?" I ask, horrified.
The face she gives me has me bawling all over again. I scramble for my phone and there it is...the whole footage.
"I'm a... meme?" I gawk.
Judi hums. "Don't look at the comments."
The comment section blurs from my tears, making my dyslexia feel much worse, and so I shut down the phone.
The car crawls to a stop at my driveway, and I stay put, head on the window.
"I just..ju-" I wipe my tears harshly, sniffling, "I just don't understand, Judi. We spoke last night."
"I don't understand either, but I mean... he hit you, Wren," she tells me. "I'd say good riddance."
At the reminder, I touch my cheek. It still feels sensitive, still hurting. "It's bad, isn't it?"
I'm sure there's a red fingerprint, I don't even have to check. Judi doesn't respond. Instead, she digs around in her bag and hands me an ointment.
"I love him, Judi." A tear falls.
She pulls me into a hug over the console. "I know. I know you do, and I know this hurts. I'm so sorry."
I clutch her tighter, sobbing in the crook of her neck.
Where do I even start from? I had it all together. I had the perfect life, the perfect fiancé... I was going to be a wife!
And now, I'm back to square one. My perfect life has shattered right before my eyes.
"Come on." Judi breaks away from the hug. "Let's go in and attend to your bruises."
***
Tristan did this to me. My fiancé-ex fiancé-did this to me. I stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.
The pain on my cheek has reduced, but the redness is still glaring. My lip is split, my wrist hurts and little band aids decorate my arm, and the back of my hands.
Judi patched me up before leaving some minutes ago.
With a sigh, I leave the bathroom, and shrug on some comfy pajamas, settling into my pillows.
My heart hurts, my body hurts... Everything hurts.
I swipe through pictures of Tristan and I on my phone, wondering what went wrong. Our conversation from last night plays in my mind.
"I love you, Wren. So much!" He had said last night.
"Can't wait to get married to you." That's what he told me.
Where did everything go south? Tears leak from the corners of my eyes, rolling into my hair. But I don't stop swiping.
As I go down memory lane, an email notification pops in. At the same time my phone rings.
I sniffle, picking up on the second ring, not bothering to read through the twisted letters and numbers on my screen.
"Hello." My voice is small, and thick with emotion.
"Hey, chirp."
I freeze, breath hitching. I sit up abruptly, hands trembling.
That nickname, that voice.
"Ray?" I whisper brokenly, eyes tearing up again.
I've not heard from my big brother in years. Ever since I moved to Seattle, he only calls on my birthdays.
Today is not my birthday, but I'm guessing he saw the whole ruckus on social media.
"You need to come home, Chirp," he says.
"What? Why?" I sputter. "I don't think what happened is enough to drag me back to New Orleans, Ray-"
"Dad is...dead, Wren."
My breath ceases. "W-what?"
"Yeah. Last night. Found him this morning."
I squeeze my eyes shut. "How? Why? Who?"
"I don't know yet, but Chirp, listen close," he says. "I sent the flight ticket to your email, so don't sweat reading through all that. Here's what matters: your flight leaves Seattle Airport, tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock. Got it?"
I nod, heart pounding in my chest. "Y-yeah, eleven a.m, got it."
Everything is happening so fast, I can barely catch up.
"It's Alaska Airlines, flight 219. Just remember that number: two-one-nine. Say it back to me."
"Two-one-nine, Alaska airlines. Eleven a.m."
"Good, be there by nine latest. You don't gotta worry about anything else. Just show the ticket on your phone to the lady at the counter and they'll point you where to go," he says. "I'll be waiting for you at the New Orleans airport when you land. You won't miss me."
I sigh. "Yeah, unless the letters scramble and I end up in Nebraska."
He chuckles. "Relax, Chirp. You'll be fine. Just keep your phone charged and answer if I call, alright?"
"Okay," I reply shakily. "Alright."
"See you soon."
Before I can reply, he hangs up.
I blink at the wall. I should feel sad, hurt, but I don't.
Shock, surprise, they hit me all at once.
My dad is...dead?