Jaslene may be sweet, but she’s no pushover. Her vibe is a delightfully terrifying blend of “kill ’em with kindness” energy and “I’ll cut a bitch” swagger.

She enters the room and closes the door, her gaze locked on me the whole time.

Jesus. I can’t catch a break today.

Dean

I find Ella pacing in the bridal suite. She’s kicked off her shoes, her hair’s down, and the area beneath her eyes is a kaleidoscope of smeared makeup. As soon as the door closes after me, she stops short.

“That was unexpected,” I say, shoving my hands into the pockets of my slacks.

She hiccups before she answers. “Oh God, Dean, I’m so sorry. I made a mess of everything, and you’re the collateral damage. Please know I never meant for it to turn out this way.”

I cross the room and sit on the couch, motioning for her to join me. She regards the gesture suspiciously, as if my politeness could only be a ploy. But Ella should know me better than this. Then again, neither of us knows the other all that well, it seems.

“Ella, I’m not upset. I just want to understand.”

She hikes up her dress and pads over, then arranges a shitload of fabric as though she’s tussling with a parachute before she finally settles next to me.

“So tell me about Tyler.”

She leans forward and places her elbows on her lap, her face crumpling. “We’ve been friends forever.”

“Only friends?”

She nods. “Yes, I promise. But I’ve been in love with him . . . well, forever. I thought I’d gotten beyond it. Thought I could marry you and forget about him. When he confronted me today, though, I felt certain that we were finally on the same page, and I just knew he was ready to confess his love for me. Spoiler alert: We aren’t, and he isn’t.”

I sigh on the inside since there’s no point in making Ella feel any worse than she already does. But yeah, she had a good thing going, then turned her world inside out for someone who won’t return her feelings. I’m not mad at her. She’s obviously free to do and think what she wants. Still, I thought we had an understanding—that what I was offering was enough—and I’m disappointed by her sudden change of heart. Couldn’t she have figured this out before we did that registry shit at Crate and Barrel? The memory of the way that sales associate directed all her comments to Ella still pisses me off. Hell, I can appreciate a tasteful place setting just as well as the next person.

“So if this was how you were feeling, why’d you walk down the aisle anyway?” I ask.