She giggles. “I’m afraid not. She left him for another man.”
“Let me guess … the pool boy?” I say.
She shakes her head and grins. “Nope. Her yoga instructor.”
I shrug. “Okay, still not shocking though.”
“He happened to be the trainer’s twin brother.”
Her eyes go wide at the reveal, and I have to hold back a chuckle at her animated expression.
“No,” I gasp.
“Yep. And the best part? She decided not to bother with hiring a photographer. She said she could just re-hang the ones from her original wedding and no one would be able to tell the difference.”
She sits back, wearing a pleased expression.
It takes a moment for the info to sink in.
“That is twisted,” I finally announce.
“I know, right?”
“You win. That is definitely the worst wedding story I’ve ever heard.”
“No. That’s not the worst. You asked for the most ridiculous,” she says.
“You have one worse than that?”
“Yeah. The one where the bride gets left at the altar, her heart gets shredded, and she’s utterly humiliated in front of everyone she knows.”
“Some asshole groom did that to one of your brides?”
“Nope. Some asshole groom did that to me.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“What an idiot for standing you up.”
“Pretty sure I was the idiot for saying yes in the first place.”
“Agree to disagree?”
“Sure,” she says.
“I guess I’ll go pack a bag,” I say as I stand.
She grabs my hand. “I’m not taking you back to the inn,” she exclaims.
I lean down and bring my mouth to hers. “Hey, a bet’s a bet,” I tell her.
She sighs. “You’re right. A bet is a bet.”
I stand up and rub my hands together. “I’ll grab my PJs.”
“You’d better make sure they are PG-rated.”