Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(7)

Four years ago, I was a sophomore at the University of Arkansas, double majoring in drama and fashion. In between starring in local commercials and helping out at my mom’s bakery, I was submitting countless applications to modeling and acting contests—hopelessly wishing for a call back.

The same day my cherry bourbon pie won top honors at the county fair, I received a call from Cover Girl cosmetics. They told me I was a finalist in their modeling competition and offered to fly me and my mother to New York City for a week long audition.

I was ecstatic, thrilled. I knew I was one step closer to becoming the star I’d always wanted to be. I pictured the judges falling in love with me on the spot, the casting agents luring me away to Hollywood, and the critics declaring me the next Reese Witherspoon, Julia Roberts, or Sandra Bullock.

My mother and I shopped for days—endlessly chatting about how we thought my audition would go, but the day we were supposed to fly out, she changed her mind.

“I can’t go honey,” she said as she handed me her plane ticket.

“Mom, the flight is in five hours! You promised!”

“The waitress I left in charge of the bakery called and said she has a family emergency so—”

“So what? Sweet Seasons can’t close for one week?”

“It’s my only source of income, sweetheart. You know that new Starbucks has cost me a lot of sales recently…I would love to go there with you but—”

“But your bakery is more important than your daughter?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she kissed my forehead.

She continued talking about that bakery, how it was slowly starting to become profitable again, but I only caught tidbits here or there.

I was too livid, too hurt, to focus on anything she was saying. This was my moment, my potential big break, and she was more concerned with cookies and pies—biscuits and coffee.

What’s more was that this wasn’t the first time she’d done this to me: She’d missed all my performances at the university’s theater, all my commercial promo shoots, and all my modeling auditions for the past two years because of Sweet Seasons—because she “was the only one who could run the place right.”

She also had a horrible habit of telling me that she wouldn’t be able to come at the very last minute. Yet for some reason, I always got my hopes up; always thought that the next time would be the time she would actually make it, that the next time would be the time she wouldn’t let me down.

“I want you to call me as soon as you get there,” she smiled. “I want you to take pictures and tell me everything because I know you’re going to win. Okay?”

She stepped forward and reached for a hug, but I stepped back.

“No. No, it’s not okay,” I held back tears. “Once again, you break your promise and you wait until the very last minute to tell me. This is—”

“Selena, the waitress called two minutes ago! There’s no way I can—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” I picked up my suitcase and headed for the door. “I’ll see you when I come back, if I come back.”

“You don’t mean that,” she tried to give me a hug again but I shook out of her embrace and rushed out to my car.

I knew I was being dramatic and that she really couldn’t afford to lose a week’s worth of business—she’d refinanced our house too many times to count, but I still wanted her to put me first for a change. I still wanted her to be there for me when I needed her, to finally stay true to her word.

I decided to go where I could always find someone to be there for me: my boyfriend Taylor’s house.

Taylor was the star of the university’s football team. With him as quarterback, the team had gone undefeated for two years and won back to back Sugar Bowls.

He was my first love—my middle school, high school, and college sweetheart. He was the only guy I’d ever kissed, the only guy I’d ever fallen for. He was also my voice of reason, and although he often sided with my mother’s line of thinking, I could always depend on him to be there for me.

I smoothed my hair as I approached his front door. Through the blinds, I could see my best friend Jessica talking to him and playfully rubbing his arms.

I figured she was helping him with his coursework or telling him another one of her sarcastic jokes, but just as I was about to press the doorbell, I saw her lean over and kiss him on the lips.

I didn’t see him pull away. I didn’t see him jerk back. I watched for two minutes as he pulled her into his lap and ran his fingers through her hair, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him.

I didn’t bother ringing the doorbell.

I angrily pushed the door open. “What the hell are you doing, Jessica!”

She moved away from him. “Selena—”

“Save it,” I snapped. “How long has this been going on, Taylor?”

“Selena,” he sighed.

“I’m well aware of what my name is! Thank you both very much! How long have you two, the closest people in my life, been going behind my back?”

They looked at each other.

“No one has anything to say?” I could feel the tears falling down my face. “Suddenly you’re both speechless?”

“Four months,” Jessica whispered. “I’m so sorry…”