Jaime invited me as his guest to a wedding on July the seventeenth. Taking this as a sign of things to come for us as a couple, I spent weeks choosing the perfect dress. I threw myself into the meaningless details of vanity: eyebrows waxed, flowing extensions in hair, new Alice-and-Olivia dress.

On the big day I stared at my reflection in the mirror, admiring the product of all my hard work.
How could he not want me for his bride?

He picked me up late explaining, "No one will notice if we miss the ceremony. Let's just hit the reception after dinner."

"Okay," I said, masking disappointment. I'd looked forward to sitting next to him in the chapel, watching two become one. I told him of the Lake Texoma shenanigans and he laughed politely steering toward his restaurant of choice. The lake story was a difficult scene to convey. One of those times you had to be there. I didn't judge him for not sharing in the humor.

We sat in silence at Ruth's Chris's Steakhouse. He analyzed his menu. I analyzed our love. Jack's words had lived in my head for days. Against my will I heard him now, here with us at the table.

You think this Jamie Knox guy can give you all you want?

"Annie," Jaime's voice broke into my thoughts. "I have to tell you something."

I met his gaze across our table.

"I have smashing news. I hope you'll be pleased."

"What is it?" Alarm bells sounded in my head.

"I got a big promotion! Huge, in fact."

"Oh wow. Congratulations! Of course, I'm happy for you," I said, feeling slightly relieved. Of what, exactly, I didn't know.

"Well, that's not all, Annie," he mumbled, not looking quite so proud. "The job's in California. I'm moving to Los Angeles."

The bottom fell out of my stomach. I sat in stunned silence as my dreams collapsed, butchered by his words.

Seeing my devastation, Jaime was quick with comfort. "Annie, don't cry," he murmured, stroking my hand. "Chances are you can move out to Cali with me. Or, I mean, once I'm settled in you might can join. Doesn't LA sound amazing? Imagine surfing, lying on the beach, enjoying the perfect weather? C'mon Annie, don't be sad. Be happy for me."

My trembling heart clung to his words, believing them as the truth.

"You want me to come with you?" I asked shakily, making certain we were clear.

"Chances are," he replied, smiling widely.

Layers of pink lavished the reception hall--pink tables, pink floors, pink lighting, pink cake, and pink bride. A DJ played eighties rock, causing Jaime to lead me to the dance floor. He appeared on top of the world, whirling me wildly to Meat Loaf's, 'Will you Love me Forever.'

I tried to keep up, but my heart was still aquiver from the bomb he had dropped over dinner. He wants me to move to LA with him? I thought, as he spun me in dizzying circles. We danced the night away in one another's arms, each toasting Jaime and his rising success.

And rather than question his decision I threw myself into his celebration, determined to be the perfect partner. "I'm so proud of you," I whispered honestly in his ear. "Congratulations on the job. I think we will be good in LA."

Three days later, as Jaime packed moving boxes and told me his plans to leave his Labrador behind, I didn't feel quite so in touch with my vicarious feelings of joy. I sat on the bed's edge as he busily bubble wrapped breakables. He appeared entirely absorbed by his task.

I wondered why his gray Calvin Klein comforter and sheets got to accompany him to California now, but not me. I eyed the offending bedding with envy. "My schedule's free as soon as I complete an internship for my program," I told him, an obvious hint at my availability to move.

"Cool," Jaime replied, immersed in his packing duties, ignoring my intimation entirely.

He left Texas the following day. I took him to the airport, choking back tears as I waved him goodbye, subsisting on hesitant hope. The reality of life without Jaime Knox left me once again lonely, depressed, and worrying for my future. For the first time in years, I gulped.

At first he called me every night, filling me in on the details of his new house in Santa Monica. "A stone's throw from the beach," he bragged. He spoke with animation about his new job and had already made new friends at work. He sounded high on life, thriving in his fresh environment. I listened to his happy voice through my phone, silently begging him to miss me.

Two weeks after the move his nightly phone calls dwindled, ringing only once a week. A month later his calls stopped all together.

I left multiple messages on his answering machine, ranging from irate accusations of abandonment, to forced well wishes of happiness, to desperate drunken cries of hurt confusion. He never returned one of my calls.

Inconsolable, I lay across my toilet bowl having heaved what little contents remained in my empty stomach into the commode. Lovesick. Disgusted that Jaime abandoned me this way.

I set up camp on my bathroom floor working my way through the seven stages of grief. Shock and denial were a relative piece of cake. I skipped through that phase on a cloud of, He's super busy or he will call me soon. I insisted our love was still true. Delving into pain and guilt, I cried for weeks as the fantasy crumbled about me in great cascades of pain. Nauseous from Jaime's absence in my life, blood pulsed through my ears. A raw rage built throughout my body, burning my skin with scorned fury. I moved into anger.

I picked up my phone and punched in Lulu's number. She answered on the second ring surprised to hear my voice, as for the last few weeks I'd lived as a recluse.

"Annie, are you okay? We've been trying to get a hold of you," she spat, not bothering with hello.

"Don't you know how much this hurts? Jamie left. I'm a mess. I can't stop crying. I miss him so much, Lulu. What am I going to do?"

Lulu wasted no time considering her answer. "You'll be with people who love you and you'll get smashed. We'll all help put you back together. You're not alone, Annie."

Her words gave me the strength I needed to pry my body off the floor. I threw on a clean tee-shirt and cap to cover my greasy hair. Feeling hollow, I walked out the door to meet my friend.

News spread fast of my emergence from seclusion. Lulu and Harriett, with Julian running late, were waiting with a table full of shots when I arrived at the downtown bar. Harriett jumped up when she spotted my entrance, running to hug me close. "I hate Jaime Knox," she whispered loudly in my ear. "I hate him and Matt John Barnes."

I felt Lulu examining my swollen, red-rimmed eyes, evidence of my fresh breakdown. "You deserve better than Jaime Knox," she said with vehemence. "And you, Harriett, deserve better than Matt John. Y'all keep throwing bones to dogs too stupid to deserve your delicious bones. They're pissing all over your bones! You deserve much more, both of you." She inhaled more martini. "I'm going to call that piece of shit and see what he has to say for himself." Lulu whipped out her iPhone and demanded Jaime's number.

"He won't answer," I warned, giving his number anyway out of sheer desperation. "Believe me, I've tried."

I watched intently as Lulu waited, her face pinched tight with rage. She lit up in surprise.

"Well hello, Asshole," she said with a wicked smile. "I don't believe we've met. My name's Lulu Abernathy. I'm Annie's friend and we're wondering why in the hell you're such a total piece of shit?"

I made a grab for the phone but Lulu was too quick. She yanked it from my grasp continuing her verbal attack upon Jaime. Although I couldn't hear his side of the conversation, I gathered it wasn't going well.

Lulu stood, abuzz with angry energy. "We are not crazy!" she yelled, outrage smearing her face. Though, upon viewing the wild, panicked look in my eyes she paused reconsidering. "Okay," she started again, adjusting her argument according to my broken condition. "Maybe you're right, Jaime Knox," she smoldered. "We are crazy. But you're--" she paused, racking her brain for the perfect adjective. "You're deceptive! And that's far worse than crazy." She finished, slamming her phone on the table in disgust.

"Oh my God. It's seriously over," I stammered, unable to comprehend how things soured so fast. "I think I hallucinated a relationship."

"Listen to me, both of you." Lulu pointed her finger at Harriet and me, meaning business. "My daddy taught me this lesson young. Don't cast your pearls upon swine."

"What?" Harriett asked confused, never one to miss out on a valuable piece of advice.

"Jesus said it. Look it up. Don't cast your pearls upon swine. If you do they'll tear you to pieces. Fact," Lulu explained.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked my friends, eyes spilling over with tears. "I always cast to swine, every time! I can't get over Jaime. All I do is cry. I can't stop throwing up."

"Can't stop throwing up?" Lulu interrupted, narrowing her eyes, "Why are you throwing up, Annie?"

​"How the hell should I know, Lulu? I'm heartsick, I guess," I said, downing one of our many shots. The moment the pungent liquid touched my tongue, I knew I made a mistake. Leaping from our table, I dashed toward the restroom. Halfway there I realized I wasn't going to make it that far.

Frantically I scanned the restaurant for a trash can, any discreet place to puke amongst the crowded bar. There was no such spot. I simply crouched in the corner to heave. "Look away," I warned. "Look away!"

Onlooking diners set down their forks to stare shaking their heads in disgust. Defiant and drunk I wiggled my vomity tongue as I returned miserable to my table of friends.

"Duuude...you're pregnant," Lulu said, eyes wide. "You are totally fucking pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant, Lulu!" My stomach rumbled loudly. To prove her wrong I scooped up another shot and drank it down. Then another and another and another. By the time I downed my sixth shot a new, rather pleasant thought occurred to me. If I'm pregnant, then it's Jaime's. We could still be a family. "You think I'm pregnant?" I slurred through a hiccup, trying to remember the date of my last period and if we'd used a condom in our drunken lust.

"I think you need a pregnancy test. To be safe," Harriet said. "But whatever happens, Annie, it will be okay. We can get through anything together."

I barely heard her as I smiled. I visualized Jaime rubbing my swollen belly, making baby talk through my womb to our unborn child. I thought of our baby strapped to his chest as we combed the beach for seashells. I envisioned him as a T-ball coach and me as the cool team mom. I heard him apologize for ever letting me go and promising never to leave me again.

Lulu ordered another round of shots and drinks, but only she and Harriet indulged. After all, I'm pregnant. This is God's emergency plan. We're destined to be a family.

Lulu's ringing cell interrupted my rapidly spiraling thoughts. For one crazy second I knew it must be, Jaime, calling back to beg my forgiveness. Instead it was Julian, and judging by Lulu's expression he was calling with important news.

"Are you fucking sure, Jewls?" she demanded.

"Okay, okay, just get here." She shut her phone and eyed me with obvious trepidation.

"What's going on?" I questioned, not liking her piteous stare.

She didn't answer, instead signaling the waiter for yet another round of drinks.

"Uhh, well," she stalled nervously. "Julian should be here any second. I think he has something to tell you, Annie."

The color draining from her face warned that whatever Jewls had to say, wasn't going to be good.

"What the hell's going on?" I asked, not sure I wanted to know, but needing answers like air.

Julian breezed into the restaurant abuzz with self importance. His face screamed of his secret.
"Soooo, how's it going, Annie?" he practically sang, in a tone suggesting he knew far more than I, in regards to my well being.

"Tell her Julian, now. Tell her what you told me," Lulu broke in, well aware of his propensity to toy with his food before going in for the kill.

Julian met my alarmed gaze across our drink-ridden table. He wore what he considers his compassion face. "Okay, today I was putting a glaze on Mary-Catherine Huntington's hair. Mary-Kate, that's what I call her. She was a Theta. Oops, silly me! She IS a Theta. Theta's for life you know. Anyhoo, Mary-Kate has a daughter, also a Theta, and she's such a sorostitute. Her name is Meggie Huntington, and oh my, is she ever a mess. One time she climbed--"

"Julian!" I screamed, unable to endure another second of his speech. "Get to the fucking point!"

"Alright, alright, don't get your Spanx in a wad. Meggie's best friend is a girl named Kate Oliver. And Kate is getting married this weekend. Mary-Catherine told me Meggie is flying to Los Angeles tomorrow to attend Kate's wedding at Shutters on the Beach, fabulous venue. The wedding of Kate Oliver and Jaime Knox." He delivered the brutal news with jazz hands.

"What?" I stammered, unable to compute this information into my unborn baby's future. "It can't be my Jaime Knox," I insisted, feeling sick.

"Oh, yes," Jewls snapped, insulted by my doubt. "It's your Jaime. I went Colombo on Mary-Kate Huntington's ass. It's the Jaime Knox who grew up in Durant, Oklahoma. Just like you. Jaime who owns a boat and a black lab named Lucy. Your Jaime, Annie. He's getting married to Kate Oliver this Saturday at noon. They've been planning it for over a year."

Things happened all at once, and honestly I'm unsure of the particular order of events. Lulu lunged for her iPhone. She launched an intensive investigation into Kate Oliver's life, her honed Facebook-stalking skills finally paying off. Harriett rushed to wrap me in her embrace, she crying for my pain. And I vomited all over our table.

Thirty minutes later my friends and I huddled in a Walgreen's pharmacy woman's restroom. We read the back of a pregnancy test box as if it were the Holy Grail.

"Oh man, I can't do this alone. Someone take a test with me. Lulu, you bought two packs of two. Please, y'all take the extras!" I pleaded.

My friends agreed, and how could they not? My life was officially shit. We each took turns squatting above the all-powerful plastic sticks, peeing with a purpose. Even Julian took a turn, not wanting to be left out. We held hands and our collective breath, waiting in agony, each watching intently for the results.

Minutes ticked by slowly. Seconds stretched to hours. Finally, answers appeared in the plus or minus boxes of the tests lining the sink counter. Minus, not pregnant. Minus, not pregnant. Minus, not pregnant. Plus—Holy shit!

"I'm pregnant!"

The bathroom bubbled frothy with emotions. I tuned out my friends steady stream of questions and screams of surprise, lost in the idea of a real baby, Jaime's baby, growing in my belly.

Í have to get to Jaime. Tell him I'm pregnant with his child. He can't marry Kate Oliver if he knows.
I'm unsure whether it was the effects of the alcohol, the pregnancy hormones, or a plain old adrenaline rush. But there in the bathroom, empowered by the positive pee-stick in my hand, I made a decision. "I have to go to Los Angeles."

"Whoop whoop!" Julian hollered, "Wedding crashing, oh yeah!" Ecstatic, he hugged and thanked me as if given a gift. "I'll crash that wedding for you, Annie. Just you watch me," he stoically vowed, eyes aglow.

"If you're going to do this I'm going too, Annie," Lulu said, grabbing my non-pee stick hand. "I'll book our flight. Don't worry about the cost."

Harriet looked oddly confounded, as if not knowing what to say. "Annie," she started, "right after we got home from the Fourth of July party, I saw Nick. He was in town and we--"

"Harrriet! Stop it. I can't listen to your love problems now. My world is crumbling!" I yelled. I was a cocktail of emotions and ready to spill.

She appeared to snap out of her insensitive daze, "Of course I'm going to help you, Annie," she smiled, hugging me close.

I looked appreciatively at my small band of friends. "Thanks y'all. I can't do this without you by my side."

"Let's go!" Julian cried, unable to curtail his excitement. "I have to pack my Alexander McQueen suit, a collector's item you know. It's perfect for wedding crashing! Oh, and you girls will die over my Louis Vuitton luggage."

Although still drunk I felt clear-headed in regard to one thing: my willingness to risk everything for the sake of Jaime's love. Rubbing one hand over my pregnant belly, I nodded consent, agreeing to the wedding crash on behalf of myself and the future of my child.

Our group dispersed with a plan to meet at DFW Delta terminal C at exactly twelve o'clock that night. The flight that would deliver me to LAX, to Jaime Knox, and to whatever destiny lay in my future.

Hating Jamie Knox? Relieve some anger by aggressively pushing my star :)

Also, I am taking part in the Brigade Watty Awards, and I'll be in love with you forever for voting for Fag Hag in the contest. It is chapter 83 and here is the link:

http://my.w.tt/UiNb/io0KGX0lkv

Thank you so very much!!