I woke up that morning, humming my favorite song.
Today was the day.
My wedding day.
The California sun was already spilling through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the bedroom floor.
My bedroom.
Our bedroom, soon.
I stretched, a blissful sigh escaping my lips, thinking of Mark.
My fiancé, the love of my life, my rock.
He was supposed to be at his best man’s place, getting ready with the guys.
We'd agreed to separate for the night, a little tradition.
But I felt this pull, this warmth in my chest, a need to see him, just for a second.
To tell him I loved him one last time before we said our vows.
I slipped out of bed, pulling on my silk robe.
It was white, a subtle nod to the day.
Our house was quiet, everyone still asleep.
My maid of honor, Sarah, my best friend since kindergarten, was asleep in the guest room down the hall.
She’d spent the night to help with last-minute things.
Sarah.
My confidante, my sister by choice.
She knew everything about me, about Mark, about us.
I adored her.
I walked softly down the hall, my bare feet silent on the cool hardwood.
My heart was so full it felt like it might burst with happiness.
I paused by our bedroom door.
It was slightly ajar.
A sliver of darkness, then a soft, unidentifiable sound from within.
A low murmur.
My brow furrowed.
Mark wasn't supposed to be here.
A knot of confusion, then a flicker of annoyance, tightened in my stomach.
Maybe he just came back for something?
I pushed the door open a little wider, just enough to peek in.
The room was still dim, curtains drawn, but enough light filtered in to see.
To see everything.
My breath hitched.
The air left my lungs in a silent whoosh, like someone had punched me.
My hand flew to my mouth, a desperate attempt to stifle the scream that was clawing at my throat.
There, in our bed.
Our bed.
Mark.
And Sarah.
Tangled together.
Their bodies, naked, entwined in the rumpled sheets.
Her blonde hair, usually meticulously styled, fanned across my pillow.
His arm, usually wrapped around me, was around her.
My fiancé.
My best friend.
My world didn't just stop.
It shattered.
It splintered into a million jagged pieces, each one piercing my soul.
Disbelief warred with a gut-wrenching certainty.
This wasn't a nightmare.
This was real.
The perfect picture of our future, meticulously painted over years, spontaneously combusted before my eyes.
