"Wait! Samantha!" George calls after me but I don't turn around. I keep walking forward.

"It's not how you think it is!"

That's the line that everyone says when they're caught cheating, but "not how you think it is?" That doesn't really work in this situation.

This is not the freedom I wanted.

This is not the freaking vacation I was looking for.

I run out of that place, still dragging my suitcase, as tears fall down my face. We've been together for years and this is how it'll end?

And why did he even invite me here in the first place? To show off his true love?

In my anger and sadness, I run into something hard . . . but soft. Forced to a stop, I look up . . . straight into the eyes of a handsome stranger.

"Oh, oh crap." I stumble

backwards and try to make myself look less crazy. "I'm so sorry," I say, apologizing.

"You look like you were in a hurry there."

Oh god, his voice went straight into my soul.

My face flushing red like a tomato, I stutter, "I'm honestly so sorry."

And I try to keep going, but his voice stops me. "And you look a little sad."

The embarrassment at running into this guy fades and the embarrassment at running into my boyfriend's wedding comes back. The anger, sadness and confusion wells up in me and fat drops of tears roll down my cheek.

The guy stares at me, not sure what to do.

"I'm sorry," I apologize again. "I'll get going."

"No," he says. "Why don't I treat you to a drink? It might help."