The Abandoned Bride

na's

frames on the walls they were as

ey carried with them the most ex

nsive things, like a fancy art museum, the air itself left off

has a target customer base of only the

O of a large business. We

oed a guest. They came to see the h

this beautiful expensive hous

are the pictur

y lips, but it did not reach

y voice a melody played o

supposed bliss, oblivious to the chill

ple who share immense respect for each other. The

t, he wrapped his hard yet slender ha

ve in them. I couldn't w

e guests. "Thank you for comi

s, it was enough for them to envy it. W

l?" another guest asked in marvel. He ges

?" I threw my h

ngs between us. We are both incredibly busy but we

ut most importantly, we tru

tch us in awe as we shar

dy amidst the raucous symphony of ce

y eyes met his, and for a moment, we stood

earching mine, perhaps for a glimpse of the girl h

ether to still their betrayal.

smile playing on his lips, though it di

ant, I clung fiercely to the shards of hope that pricked at my heart. Hop

iling off as he glanced at the opulent crowd that swir

upon his lips. "Let's just enjoy tonight. We

it fueled my hope, nonetheless. The belief that the love which once burned brightly between us could defy

" I said, taking his arm, and guiding

ine china were the chorus of our slow descent into uncertaint

of his hand upon my waist, I found solace. I savored the warmth

ed against his ear, "no ma

d back, his breath w

welled, so did

façade, my love for him remained stea

led two majestic birds, and we moved with such precisi

swear I saw some of them wipe tears fro

l that no contract could ever capture, and

air, a haunting echo that clung to my senses

y eyes. The party continued around us, but we were

me above the crescendo of chattering guests and

ght, now held a somber depth that I h

ending doom. I felt the delicate fabric of my gown brush against my skin a

s filled with all the things left unsaid, with every shard

w. Deep down, beneath the veneer of ho

ding, let's cancel i

with each word, he struck a

instinctive denial of a re

each other. That's real, Arthur. T

ut I stepped back, my movem

peration sharpening m

to give up on us just like that. Love isn't a game, It's

in his voice was a stark contrast to the

aching for him, grasping at the man who he

hur. For us, for all t

as finality there, a door cl

ice cracking under the strain of emotions too powerful to

len

rred by tears that refused to fall. Because to cry was to admit defeat

the cacophony of celebration around us. "Leave if that's what you