Her Best Friend's Wife

ung on the closet doo

r hands, and wondered if the champagne from last night wa

ng like

e room, where she was arranging white roses in crystal vases. Marcus is so lucky. God, when I think about tha

she could still feel the ghost of Damian's touch. Twelve hours ago, she had been in his arms. Tw

ator confirming the timeline. Not Damian. He hadn't texted since that call at 3 AM, when his v

he'd heard the sheets rustling in the background, could picture him in h

but the question had echoed through

he makeup artist will be here in an hour. You need to ea

night before my wedding in another man's bed, and now I'm suppos

, forcing a smile that felt like

oft and aching, as if every glance was a silent plea not to let go, the sadness in his eyes when he'd t

. Just one last moment with her bes

ffee, they both knew it wasn't about coffee. And when he cupped her face in his hands and

areful, scheduled intimacy she shared with Marcus. Afterward, lying tangled in Damian's sh

ality crash

p. But she knows he was awakened by the tension in his shoulders, by the w

mload of garment bags. Mija, why aren't you dressed yet? The photograph

ng, Lita said

ards her first daughter, who had been with her in down moments. She sho

k t

e corners of her eyes. I di

terr

orce the words out. Instead, she reached into her purse and pulled out the letter s

osed, she whispered. I forgot

yes widened. H

her head. I

're not ready

g right now, you have to be honest with yourself, mija. Because in three hours, you're

aid, but the words sounded

To be true to who you are, no

ut Damian's apartment, the way he'd kissed her goodbye at the door, the

us, a future without financial worry. Who had never made her laugh until her sides ached, who l

. But Lit, whatever you decide, I'll support you. Your f

on the envelope with trembling fingers

spent the last few months convincing yourself that Marcus is the

akes you feel alive. You know which man really sees you

and you're

ell you w

uld hear Melissa arguing with the florist about the rose arr

I shouldn't be here. I know this is crazy. But I can't let you do this without

ld see herself, hair still messy from sleep (from Damian's hands), makeup-free, wear

. One hour before the carefully orchestrated mach

life she'd planned and the life

epped onto the street, the warm scent of fresh bread drifted th

ls with love, consequence, an