April's Heart

The Photographer

April arrived at the hotel exactly when she said she would, still the wedding planner was waiting outside impatiently tapping her $800 pump on the sidewalk.

"Hi, Carolyn," April said, her best fake smile lighting up her face.

Carolyn fake smiled back, though hers was far less convincing, and dragged her into the hotel by the arm.

"Your dress is in room 816, your keycard is at the front desk. Tell them you're the photographer."

April was sure "the photographer" was the name the clerks at the desk were given because neither the bride nor the planner, their new names for the day, could remember her real name.

"Janice and I will meet you up there."

April nodded and headed to the desk to get her key.

"I'm the photographer," she replied when asked if she could be helped. She hoped they would ask her actual name but "the photographer" did the trick and she was handed a key card by a plastic smiled young man whose name tag read Trystan.

"Enjoy your stay," he sang as she walked away.

She was mid eye roll when she ran directly into a man, her face bouncing off his impressive pectoral muscles. He held on to her shoulders until she was steady on her feet.  She  started to apologize when the man  spoke.

"April," he said, seemingly to himself. His voice was familiar but one she hadn't heard in quite a while, like a year and a day.

Please don't be him. Please don't be him. Please. Please. Please.

Finally, April looked up from the man's cummerbund and into his eyes which softened to the point of tearing at the sight of her.

Kenneth Mitchell. April's heart immediately deflated and sunk to her stomach. 

"I have to go," she said, slipping from the grip Kenny still had on her shoulders and running for the elevator. She hopped on an open one that a large group of Australian tourists had just exited and tried desperately to find the door close button. Though she was relatively sure Kenny hadn't followed her she pressed it for good measure and exhaled deeply still trying to process what had just happened.

The doors came together slowly and as April pressed the 8th-floor button a hand stopped them from closing with only seconds to spare. They reopened revealing a panting Kenny who obviously had to fight his way through the Australians to get to her. He stepped onto the elevator and April tried to sink into the wall of the corner furthest from him.

"Why are you running from me?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you and I damn sure don't want to be stuck in an elevator with you, Kenny."

"Please, just let me explain."

He sounded so desperate and pathetic.   Not at all like  a man who was cocky enough to cheat on and leave a loving girlfriend without an explanation.  April wanted to ask where she was.  Where was the woman  he had chosen over  her after ten months of supposed happiness.  Probably at  the bar flirting with every man in sight who might have a trust fund.  Or perhaps he was alone, dressed to the nines hoping to attract another  pretty blonde with nothing to offer but her opinion on what jewelry he should buy her.  Either way, April  didn't care.  He had humiliated her and disappeared without a word. Anything he had to say was a year too late.

She pulled herself from the wall and stood toe to toe with the man who had broken her heart. He still looked close to tears and April wanted to tell him what she had been planning to say if she ever saw him again.  She wanted  to tell him that she deserved better than to be dumped so unceremoniously by someone who claimed to love her.  She wanted to tell him that she was better off  knowing the kind of man he really was before  giving  up any more of her  life for him.   Mostly,  though, she  wanted to tell him that though he had  broken  her heart he did not break her and if he couldn't handle being with a real woman it was better that he did leave.