The Day I Stopped Being the Bride in My Own Wedding

"Are you certain, Miss Henson? Changing the bride's name at this point—I've been doing weddings for years, and this is a first for me..."

"I'm certain."

I gave it without hesitation. "Everything else stays the same. Same schedule, same venue. Just change the bride's name to Polly Harding."

The line went quiet for a few seconds. Then she agreed.

I paused, and added one last instruction. "Don't tell either of them until the day of the wedding."

The next day I went into the office and handed in my resignation.

I'd barely stepped out of the office when my phone buzzed in my pocket.

A message from Preston.

【I'm downstairs.】

I stared at the message for a long moment, then got up and went down.

Downstairs, Preston saw me and came over, holding out a paper bag.

He still carried the sour smell of last night's drinking.

It turned my stomach.

I didn't take the bag, but I knew exactly what was inside.

Ginger tea, an unopened box of ibuprofen, and two heat patches.

Almost every month, on this same day, he had these ready. Rain or shine.

But I knew. This wasn't for me.

Sure enough, Preston spoke. "Polly had too much to drink last night, and her period's due today, so she's bound to be uncomfortable. Bring it up to her for me, would you? You two sit near each other anyway. Saves me a special trip."

When I said nothing, he pulled a half-used strip of ibuprofen out of his pocket.

"Figured your period's coming up soon too. Left your painkillers in my car, so I brought them along while I was at it."

"Go on up. Polly's waiting."

I looked at the heavy paper bag in reach, and at that nearly empty strip of pills, and something in it struck me as absurd.

That strip of painkillers was one I'd bought myself last month, when the cramps got so bad I couldn't stand it.

At the time, Polly had been sipping the warm drink Preston brought her, enjoying the cramp-relief massage he'd learned specially for her.

And to me, his fiancee, doubled over and about to pass out, all he'd said was, "Drink more hot water."

Why hadn't I felt wronged back then?

Maybe it wasn't that I hadn't felt it.

I'd just gotten used to breaking every hurt into pieces and swallowing them down.

But this time, I really didn't want to swallow it.

I took a step back and looked at him, cold. "From now on, if you want to give her something, message Polly yourself."

"Nothing else, so I'm heading back up."

Preston stood there, thrown by how suddenly I'd gone cold.

By the time it registered, I'd already turned and gone up the stairs, without looking back.

By the time I got back to the office, the front desk had already sent the paper bag up.

Polly was at her desk opening it, and a few coworkers immediately crowded around, egging her on.

"Wow, from the boyfriend again? So thoughtful!"

"Right on time every month—Polly, you're so lucky!"

Polly's ears went red as she waved her hands in a fluster. "No, no, it's not from a boyfriend!"

She glanced over at me as she said it, and when I ignored her, she raised her voice a little. "Just a... a very good friend, that's all."

I didn't look up.

I kept working on the handover list on my computer.

But Polly leaned in. "Milly, want to hit a bar tonight after work?"

"In a few days you won't be single anymore. You've got to go a little wild before the wedding!"

I frowned and was about to say no when Polly just clapped her hands. "My treat tonight! Bachelorette party for our Milly! Sign up if you want in!"

The office lit up instantly, seven or eight coworkers raising their hands.

Clearly, I had no room left to refuse.

Once the list of who was coming was settled, Polly leaned in again, her voice going soft. "Milly, could you add my name to the new project?"

"I mean, I'm throwing you a bachelorette party and everything. I'm just one project short of qualifying for a promotion, and you're my best friend, so of course you'll help me, right?"

At that, my hands paused on the keyboard.

She did this every time these past few years. Nowhere to be found during the early stages, then coming to beg me to add her name right as it wrapped.

Every time before, I'd said yes, and she'd do nothing and still get made permanent, still get promoted.

But this time, I didn't feel like being generous.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at her, my face blank.

"There's only one open slot left on the project to add a name."

"You sure you want it?"

She laughed, carefree. "Sure! You really are the best!"

I nodded.

And typed Polly's name in right after the deputy lead position.

Polly didn't notice which one I'd picked; she'd already turned to chat with the coworkers.

Well, she agreed to it herself, so none of this is on me.

Once I was gone, the project wrap-up report would fall to this "deputy lead."

I just wondered how someone who'd never once set foot in the project team was going to give that report.