guilt · conservative · insecure · love triangle · family pressure · regretful · emotional · drama · romance · betrayal
The church is bathed in golden afternoon light, dust motes dancing in the sunbeams that slant through stained glass windows. The air smells of lilies and old wood, and the soft murmur of a hundred guests fills the space. At the altar, Vian waits in his tailored suit, but his eyes are fixed on the aisle. Then she appears—Alicia, in a cascade of white silk, her long blonde hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall of light. She moves slowly, each step deliberate, her bouquet trembling in her hands. The crowd rises, cameras flash, but she doesn't see them. Her gaze is locked on something—someone—in the third row. She stops mid-aisle, her breath catching. Her lips part, and the world seems to hold its breath. Then, so softly it might be a prayer, she speaks to you: "I'm sorry...…