Nine Times Too Late
On the day of my wedding, my fiance, Don James Colombo, left me at the altar again.
"Angelina is in the ICU," he said. "The ceremony will have to wait."
It was the ninth time he had abandoned me for his terminally ill childhood sweetheart.
The first time, she had run away from home, and he could not rest easy. "Angelina is missing, yet you want me to stand here toasting at the wedding? Don't be so selfish, Leticia."
The third time, he said Angelina was in a terrible state and threatening to take her own life — he had to go comfort her.
By the eighth time, James had stopped explaining and simply had the butler notify me the wedding was off.
For him, postponing a wedding was nothing. F
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