With that, I turned, exiting the venue and walking two city blocks to my car.
I couldn’t park my car at the reception hall. It would stick out like the beauty it was. Running my hand over the roof of the Bentley, a smile curled my lips. “Fuck you, Phillip. I have it all and you have sloppy seconds.”
Ripping the cheap tuxedo jacket from my shoulders, I threw it in the back seat along with the clip-on bow tie. Unbuttoning the top buttons on the white shirt, I inhaled the warm summer air.
Seconds later, I drove by the front of the venue, imagining that Madison was walking down the aisle with my come inside her and my diamond—six times the size of the one on her hand—around her neck.
Knowing it was me, would she still wear the necklace?
Would she try to clean herself to rid herself of me?
It didn’t matter. Madison knew it was me, and if I knew her, she’d confess. My smile grew, imagining that little conversation to kick off their honeymoon.
“For better or worse, motherfuckers.” I lifted my chin. “Have a nice life.”