The ghost of you (The Selection)

A\N: I've always loved The Selection series by Keira Cass and how she keeps you wanting to find out what the hell happens. But what happened if the Rebel attack in The One never happened and Maxon chose Kriss? What would have happened to America after Kriss said 'yes' to Maxon? How would she have felt? What would happen if her heart had been broken by the man who had promised her not to break it just hours earlier? Would she survive this?

(The title for the fic comes from the song The ghost of you by 5 Seconds of Summer, give it a listen, I love it! This fic is a sad fic but no spoilers from me, you'll just have to read and find out what happens)

America POV:

I watched as Maxon knelt in front of Kriss, a ring box in his hands and a smile on his face, the smile he wore when he was me just a few hours ago.

"Kriss Ambers, I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you be my wife and my princess?" He asked, Kriss nodded, tears falling from her eyes.

"Yes!" She said, Maxon smiled even wider as he slipped the ring on her finger and helped her up, kissing her softly on the lips. Maxon looked at me with hate in his eyes.

"I hope we can part as friends, Lady America." Maxon said, I knew he was just saying that for the cameras because I knew he couldn't wait to be rid of me. The tears were overflowing and were just wishing to be let out, to flow down my cheeks but I held them in as I looked at him, willing him to forgive me even though he never would.

"I'd like that, Prince Maxon." I said as my voice cracked. I caught the eye of Celeste in the front row who looked at me sadly. "You'll be okay." She mouthed at me and I discreetly shook my head.

I was engulfed in a bone crushing hug by Celeste the second I was off the raised platform. I wrapped my arms around her and let a few tears slip from my overflowing eyes as she stroked my back.

"I'm so sorry, America." My friend whispered as we pulled away, she wiped a few of my tears away with the pad of her thumb just before we caught a photographer coming towards us. My friend wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I lent my head on her shoulder, both of us smiling like nothing was wrong even though my heart was broken into a million tiny pieces and I lost the love of my life.

The photographer took a picture and left the two of us with a smile and promised to give us each a copy of the picture.

"I...I need a few minutes alone, if that's okay?" Celeste nodded her head and got me out of the Great Room before anyone could stop us. "Of course it's okay. Go, go collect yourself, sort yourself out, take time to process this then come back because you and I, my dear, are going to get drunk like nobody cares." I let out a small laugh as I slipped out of the Great Room.

I found myself in my room, my stuff was packed into three trunks and my backpack I brought with me on the first day here. My maids were gone, doing I don't know, I was alone in my room, in the palace had become home to me in the months I was here.

I fell to my knees when I saw my unmade bed that Maxon and I were in this morning before everything went to hell. The tears I had held back came rushing down my cheeks like an overflowing damn that had finally burst, the tears were coupled with sobs that shook me and I wished for someone to hold me, stroke my hair: Maxon, one of my maids, Celeste, anyone, to help me through this heartbreak but I had no one, no one came to hold me.

I crawled over to my bed and pulled myself onto it, my face was on the pillow Maxon had laid his head on last night and his scent was still present so I fell into an exhausted emotionally wrung out slumber, the tears still flowing down my cheeks, wishing that Maxon was holding me in his arms like he did last night and that today was a big, big nasty nightmare.