“Leave. Now. Before we wake up in the morning and regret what we’ve done.”
Susan’s words bounced around her head, razor sharp, every single one of them pierced through her heart.
Her stomach roiled with the contents of the champagne flute offered to her whilst they had their hair done. Her sister, flushed with excitement, insisted on a second glass before she disappeared to get ready.
Susan closed the lid of the box filled with secrets she could not keep and slipped out of the kitchen door. In the corner of the garden, where she had dug a hole the night before, she knelt on the soft grass and sat back on her heels. The soft silky folds of her dress billowed around her. Susan raised the box to her lips and kissed the label with his name etched in fancy lettering. She placed it in the hole and covered it with soil and a single lily plucked from her bouquet.
At the church, she kept her head high, her vision blurred with unshed tears, as her sister and Adrian made their wedding vows. She shuddered as their lips met, lips that had once kissed her.
Some things were not made for sharing.
Sometimes love had to be sacrificed, buried and forgotten.
©JoAnna Lamb 2020