So she uninvited the fifty guests. She returned the ring. She kept the honeymoon.
She had planned this trip for eighteen months. The deposit on the overwater bungalow in Bora Bora was non-refundable. The seat next to her on the plane—the one where his tall frame should have been spilling into her shoulder—was empty. scarlett jones solo honeymoon
She ordered two entrées at the beachfront grill—his usual spicy tuna, her favorite mango salad. She ate both. It was the most she’d eaten in a month. So she uninvited the fifty guests
She went scuba diving. Underwater, the only sound was her own breathing. No voicemails. No wedding planner stress. No pretending to love his mother’s casserole. Just weightlessness. She had planned this trip for eighteen months
The Unwedding
That night, she danced alone at the tiki bar. A slow song came on. She put her hand on her own shoulder, the other on an imaginary waist, and swayed. At first, it felt sad. Then it felt like a first dance.