My eyes moved down to my ring finger and focused on the square-cut diamond solitaire engagement ring I was still trying to get used to wearing.

   “I’m fine,” I said without any kind of feeling or conviction.

   “Were you surprised?”

   “By what?” I asked, still staring at the ring, trying to convince my mind that it was, in fact, my finger on which the ring was situated.

   “By Elliot’s proposal. Duh,” Liv giggled. She was sitting in a chair across the room while a stylist worked on her hair.

   “Oh. Right. Yeah.”

   The truth was, I’d never been more confused in my life.

   The night before, at Devon and Olivia’s rehearsal dinner, Elliot had stood to make his speech as best man. I hadn’t thought much of it. He was doing a great job – talking about how Devon had been smart not to let the woman he loved get away, that when you know you’re with the one you want to spend forever with, you should grab hold tight. The next thing I knew he was at my side, down on one knee, with a little black velvet box in hand, asking me to marry him.

   I’d never felt more guilty than when my eyes fluttered over his shoulder and met with Devon’s.

   But Devon didn’t stand up, and he didn’t shout to me not to do it. Not that I expected him to. But I did see him swallow hard and it kind of looked like he wanted to throw up. Me too.

   “Babe?” Elliot asked, still holding my hand, waiting for me to tell him whether I’d spend the rest of my life with him or not.

   I looked into Elliot’s eyes and said the only thing I could think of. “Yes.”

   He pushed the ring onto my finger and stood up, hugging me, lifting me into the air and kissing my cheek. He seemed so happy.

   “Evelyn,” Liv’s voice cut through my mental fog again. “Earth to Evelyn,” she giggled. “You guys must have had a lot of engagement sex last night.”

   I forced a laugh, trying to seem like she’d hit the nail on the head. I wanted her to believe I was tired because I’d spent all night having passionate sex with my new fiancé. I didn’t want her to know I’d lost sleep because I was trying to come up with any feasible reason to get out of it without hurting anyone.

   Elliot was a great guy. I loved him. He’d been good to me. But everything about the night before only solidified for me that it was over a long time ago. When someone asks you to marry him and the first thing you feel is overwhelming dread, that’s when you know it’s time to move on. I couldn’t marry Elliot. I couldn’t do that to him. He deserved someone much better than me, someone who would love him with as much enthusiasm as he loved them.

   Two hours later, I watched my best friend exchange vows with the man I’d been in love with for years, a love I knew I’d never get the opportunity to express. Never get the opportunity to stand up in front of a group of people and hear him vow to love me until death parted us.

   Because I was the maid of honor, I faced Liv’s back with my eyes locked on Devon.

   He said his vows and I could see the love radiating from him. I watched as his eyes lit up with his words, how his voice grew sharp with promises and emotion. And when the tears slipped down my cheeks, I plastered on a fake smile so that people would think I was crying happy tears, not sad, devastating ones.

   I watched with a painful ache in my chest as Liv kissed her new husband.

   Suddenly, the years of longing and the way I’d resigned myself to simply being around him without ever feeling his hands on me was all too much. I was realizing that I would be living this way forever. Just as he’d taken the vow to love Liv until the day he died, I realized it would never end for me.

  This had always been my reality, but faced with an eternity of never being with Devon was too much to handle in that moment. I walked behind the happy couple, hand in hand with Elliot, trying to keep the devastation from my face as I followed them back down the aisle. When we made it right outside the doors of the church, Devon and Liv stopped to share a kiss, his hands framing her face, and her eyes filled with actual tears of happiness.

   I took a sharp right turn and headed toward a restroom I’d seen before the ceremony, ripping my hand from Elliot’s.

   “Evie!” I heard him calling from behind me, but I couldn’t turn and look him in the face. I made it to the restroom, locked the door, and then put down all the barriers I’d had up for so long. I let my guard down, let the wall down around my heart, and I cried. I sat on the toilet, face in my hands, and cried loud and gut wrenching sobs. My mind was torturing me with images of Devon looking at his bride with love, holding their baby, spending a wonderful life with her, my best friend, and my soul shattered like a sheet of ice, fragments shooting in all different directions, with sharp and jagged edges.

   I don’t know how long someone had been knocking on the door – I was unaware of my surroundings – but when the knocking turned into banging and shouting, my brain finally recognized the sounds of someone on the other side of the door.

   “Evie, I’m worried about you. Please, open the door.” Elliot’s voice was loud and, indeed, worried. I stood, my legs shaky and weak, and walked to the sink, wetting some paper towels. I heard Elliot’s muffled voice talking to someone else and then suddenly the door burst open. I saw a man in a blue jumpsuit with a nametag that read, “Bud,” and Elliot barrel through the door past him. “Evie,” he said, my name like a prayer on his lips, rushing toward me.

   “Are you all right?” he asked as his hands came to my shoulders, his eyes running up and down my body, looking for any kind of injury or clue as to why I would have locked myself in the restroom.

   My first instinct was to tell him that I was fine; old habits die hard. But the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him, or myself, any longer. So instead, I shook my head. Immediately more tears sprung to my eyes.

   “What’s wrong, babe?” His words were soft and concerned and the weight I was carrying around shifted, becoming altogether heavier with his sweetness.

   “I can’t marry you.” I’d spoken the words without really thinking about them and instantly wished I could take them back, rephrase them, and soften the edges a little, instead of just blurting out the words that I knew would leave his soul entirely shattered as mine was, even if for different reasons.

   He was shocked for a moment, but then he moved closer to me, bringing his body within inches of mine, bending at the knees to look into my eyes.

   “Evelyn, let me take you home. You’re obviously upset about something. I don’t think you should be here. Let’s go.” His eyes were pleading with me to let him take care of me, to let him smooth over whatever I was upset about, and that would have been easy. Obviously, he was just as good as I was at pretending everything was all right, because if he weren’t we would have ended long ago. We’d both been pretending, but I knew he was only biding his time, hopeful I’d eventually return his feelings with the same depth and investment he had shown me. But it had to end.

   “I can’t go with you, and I can’t marry you. It wouldn’t be right. We both know it.”

   He was quiet for another moment, and then he took a step backward, his hands dropping from me. I’d never felt as cold or empty as I did the moment the warmth of his hands faded from my bare skin. That warmth might have been the last time I felt a man’s hands on me, and even though I wasn’t in love with him, his touch had never been anything but wonderful.

   “This is about Devon,” he accused. I shook my head.

   “No, this is about me. About us. It’s got nothing to do with him.”

   “Bullshit.” His voice was laced with an anger I’d never heard from him before. Gone was the Elliot who wanted to care for me and he was replaced with someone filled with fury. “You think I’m stupid enough to believe it’s a coincidence you’re having a breakdown at Devon’s wedding. For Christ’s sake, Evelyn, don’t insult me by playing dumb.” He took in a deep breath and seemed to calm down a bit. “I thought you were coming around, thought you’d realized what we had was a good thing.” He moved closer to me again, but I took a step back, which only made him inhale a sharp breath. I’d never pulled away from him before.