I rode as far as I could, following the trails deeper and deeper into the forest until finally, they got narrower and less traveled.
The riding got harder, with more obstacles for me to navigate, and my muscles started to burn from the effort of the exercise. It was only then that I started to consider what I’d done and what it meant.
By now, Trevor would know I wasn’t coming and someone would have told my parents I’d run off. Hopefully, Charli, Harper, and Kat would have a chance to talk to my mom and dad to let them know I was okay.
The last thing I wanted was for them to worry. Not that they wouldn’t. After all, I’m sure it was concerning when your daughter ran out moments before her wedding.
Still.
They would understand. Just as soon as I explained everything to them.
And I would. Just not yet.
First, I needed to figure out where I was and what was next. As if to punctuate the point, thunder crashed overhead.
Perfect.
Of course, there’d be a storm on what was supposed to be my wedding day. As if I needed another sign to tell me I’d made the right decision.
I laughed at the irony.
But my laughter died on my lips as a flash of lightning streaked the sky through the trees overhead.
I might not be a backwoods survival expert, but I knew enough that hanging out in the woods during a thunderstorm was not a safe choice.
I pedaled faster, trying to decide where I should seek shelter.
The answer to my question came in the form of a tiny cabin that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. An old hunting cabin. It had to be.
I hadn’t realized I’d gone so far already, but it must be the cabin Preston told me about. I’d been hungover and fuzzy, but I remembered he’d told me it was directly behind the lodge.
Once upon a time, it was used for hunting expeditions, but now it was used for occasional backcountry overnight trips.
Perfect.
I reached the small porch, right as the sky opened up and rain started to pelt down. I left the bike under the shelter of the roof and let myself in.
There wasn’t much to it. A small bed, a table in the corner,and a wood-fired stove. The exact opposite of the honeymoon suite we’d reserved at the lodge with the plushy king-sized bed, oversized fireplace in the center of the room, and huge bathtub.
It was perfect.
I stumbled inside, my legs like rubber after so much exercise. I collapsed on the bare mattress right as the tears started to flow.
The build-up of emotion and stress overwhelmed me, and I let myself cry in big, gut-wrenching, ugly sobs. I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life by running out on that wedding. At least financially speaking. But for every other reason, it was the right decision.
I had no idea how I was going to explain to my parents that I’d lost all their money, but the one thing Ididknow was that I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to them and making sure they got the retirement they deserved.
For the moment, relief washed over me that I’d just dodged a bullet.
How had I come so close to making the biggest mistake of my life? How had I let it get so far? How had I forgotten who I was?
I sobbed my way through all the questions until the only thing left was the answer. It didn’t matter how I had let it happen. The only thing that mattered was that I’d stopped it before it had gone too far. I’d made the right choice.
I’d chosen myself.
And right or wrong, for the first time, that didn’t feel like abandoning anyone else.
I’d figure out the money.
