The white flowers were taken down from the ballroom walls, and the expensive champagne was never opened or poured.

One hundred and twenty dressed-up guests went home that day with a wild, unbelievable story that they would likely retell for decades to come.

Yet, I walked away carrying something far heavier than embarrassment.

I walked away carrying immense regret for my past blind choices.

Late that same evening, I drove over to Christina’s apartment complex.

I walked inside and found her sitting silently on her living room couch.