The city lights blurred past Roy’s windshield as he drove home, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with every mile. The wedding replayed in his head like a cruel loop—laughter, music, faces he barely registered. But one image refused to leave him.
Diane.
Not just Diane.
Diane smiled.
Diane laughed.
Diane was standing beside another man as though she belonged there—like she had always belonged there.
“Damn it,” he muttered, his jaw clenching.
He exhaled sharply, then laughed under his breath—bitter, humorless. “You really messed this up, Roy. You really did.”
He stopped at a red light, the car idling as his thoughts grew louder.
She didn’t look broken.
“She’s moved on,” he said out loud, voice low and rough. “Just like that.”
His fingers tapped anxiously against the steeri
