For Worse.

Jon leaned his head back against the pew, but even that reminded him of her. She would lean her head on his shoulder on dates, even though she knew it made him uncomfortable.

"I don't want to go too far," he'd told her once. "Every time you touch me, it makes me want to touch you back, and we've got to wait..."

She'd only laughed and done it even more. When he proposed, she'd kissed him, and he'd let her, because they were going to get married soon...

And now here he was. Wifeless and heartbroken with only a perfect diamond ring in his palm to show for his troubles.

"I don't love you," she'd said in the moments before they were supposed to get married. "I don't...I just don't. You're too...you're too flat. I need excitement. I need a man who excites me."

What does that mean? I have a stable job. I'm not rich, but I can provide for her. I'm exciting! I climb for a hobby and we've gone on so many adventures together in the outdoors.

But he hadn't said these things. Instead he'd let himself turn into stone as she'd ripped off the engagement ring and put it in his palm, her fingers brushing his in a way that used to send chills down his body, but now only made him hot with anger.

"I love you, Sharon," he'd said. "I...we...why did you go through with this? We've been dating for three years? Why didn't you say something?"

"You were so earnest. You're a good guy, Jon. I thought I could persuade myself to love you, but I can't. You're too good. You don't have any fun."

So the coffee dates weren't fun? The dancing wasn't fun? The times we'd go see fireworks together and laugh and talk in the summer night weren't fun? She'd been a good actress. He should have known, the way she could switch personalities when her friends were there.

"Besides, I can't stay in this place. I need air," she said. "I'm sorry, Jon. I just didn't realize my feelings till now. My true feelings. Why I'm not happy. I need to travel, and Matt—"

She'd broken off then, but it was too late, and even she was embarrassed, flushing. Jon bit his lip to keep from saying something he shouldn't have. Even then he'd treated her like she was a queen. His queen.

"Oh, what the heck? You might as well know," she groaned. "You wouldn't give me what I wanted, so I went to Matt. At least he's not afraid of sex."

"You know I told you I wanted to wait until marriage," Jon burst out, bitterness filling his heart. He'd given her everything—every part of his heart, and she'd turned on him and destroyed it all. "I didn't want to hurt you—us. I wanted to offer you stability, commitment, so that we could grow old together instead of basing our relationship on something it wasn't meant to be based on!"

"That wasn't what I wanted!" Sharon snapped. "I don't want to be tied to one man. I'm glad you think it's possible to love only one woman for your whole life, but I can't do that! It gets boring! It's over, Jon. You ask too much."

And then she'd walked away, leaving him to explain to the waiting church why his bride wasn't going to walk down the aisle.

And here he was. Alone. As always. She'd lied to him. He wished she would have told him earlier. He would have understood. He was more upset that Matt hadn't told him. How long had they been sleeping together? Months? Years? Since the beginning.

He wanted to cry some more, but he didn't have any tears left. His only condolence was that her family had paid for the wedding. Still, it was a nightmare trying to explain to all of their friends and relations the break-up.

The door creaked open behind him, and he turned. Caroline. One of his friends since high school. He should have listened to her. She'd told him Sharon behaved differently around other people, but he hadn't believed her, so she'd stopped telling him.

"Jon," she whispered. "Just wanted to check and see if you're okay."

He sniffed, standing up and trying to smile. "I'm fine."

"No, you're not." She came closer, her face crinkled in a look of concern.

"I'm just...glad she told me before we got married. Glad we didn't build our marriage on a lie."

"Oh, Jon," Caroline sighed. "I'm sorry."

"No, I am. I'm sorry I didn't listen to everybody. I'm sorry I didn't open my eyes and see for myself that she didn't really love me."

"She didn't deserve you anyway, if that makes you feel better."

Jon tried to smile again, and this time he thought he actually did. "Thanks."

"Come on. There's still some cake left, and I brought the apple pie like you asked—your favorite."

"That'll help."

And they walked to the reception hall.

Five years later, Jon enjoyed his wife's apple pie even more than he had on that miserable yet wonderful day when his fiancée freed him to discover the perfect woman for him.