Episode Two
853 Words
The doors swing open all the way.
Light floods the aisle. For a second, all I can see is brightness and the blur of faces turning toward me. Then I see him.
Damien stands at the altar in a black suit, hands clasped, jaw tight. He looks nervous. He looks like the man I’ve been building a life with for four years.
Our eyes meet for half a second.
Then his drop.
He steps forward, but not toward me.
He walks down the aisle, past the first row, past the second. The organ keeps playing, oblivious. The guests shift, confused. My bouquet feels suddenly heavy, damp in my palms.
He stops three rows from the altar.
Right in front of Courtney.
*_My sister._*
She’s wearing the pale blue dress I helped her pick last week. “So I don’t clash with you,” she said, laughing. She’s standing, mouth slightly open, like she can’t believe he’s there.
Damien sinks to one knee on the church carpet.
The music stutters and stops.
“Courtney,” he says, and his voice carries through the sudden silence. “I know it’s wrong. I know it’s late. But they say you only get to love once in your life.”
He looks up at her. Not at me. Never at me.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “It wasn’t her.”
The bouquet slips from my fingers.
White lilies and red roses hit the marble floor with a dull thud.
A sound tears out of me before I can stop it. Not a word. Just air and disbelief.
Mom screams from the front row. The sound is raw, animal. She grips the pew to stay upright.
Courtney doesn’t answer right away. She looks at Damien, then at me. Tears are already spilling down her cheeks. She doesn’t say no. She doesn’t move away.
She just puts her hand in his.
The church erupts.
Gasping. Whispering. Someone drops a hymn book.
I can’t breathe.
Four years. Four years of night shifts to pay his tuition. Four years of telling myself _it’ll be worth it_. Four years of sending money home so Courtney could finish school.
And in thirty seconds, he erases all of it.
In front of God.
In front of everyone.
I turn and run.
The doors slam behind me, and the sound echoes like a gunshot.
--
I don’t stop running until I’m outside.
The church doors slam shut behind me, cutting off the sound of whispers and Mom’s sobbing. The parking lot is empty and too bright. My heels sink into the gravel and I stumble, catching myself against a black SUV.
I press my hands to my knees and try to breathe.
It doesn’t work.
Four years.
Four years of working night shifts at the diner while he studied. I slept three hours a night, max. I told myself it was temporary. _Once he graduates, once he gets the job, we’ll be okay._
I dropped out of college in my second year. “I’ll go back later,” I told myself. “This is more important.”
I sold Mom's necklace. The only thing she had left from my dad.
“Invest in him,” I said. “He’ll make it back ten times.”
I sent money home every month so Courtney could stay in school. I told her, “Don’t worry about me. Just focus.”
And now he’s on his knees in front of her.
In front of God.
In front of everyone I know.
“The man I destroyed myself for just chose my sister,” I whisper, and the words taste like ash.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t check it. I know what it is.
Friends. Family. Guests who don’t know what to say.
None of it matters.
The front doors open again. I expect to hear his voice.
“Silvia, wait—”
But it’s not him.
It’s Courtney.
She stands ten feet away, clutching the front of her dress like it’s the only thing holding her together. Her makeup is ruined. Her eyes are red.
“Silvia, I—”
“Don’t,” I say. My voice sounds foreign. Empty. “Don’t say his name.”
She flinches.
“I didn’t know,” she says. “I swear, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”
Didn’t know.
Like people don’t know when they look at someone they want. Like four years of me being his girlfriend didn’t mean anything.
I laugh, and it comes out broken.
“You can have him,” I say. “Both of you. I’m done.”
I push past her and head for the street.
Behind me, I hear her whisper, “ Silvia, wait—Mom—”
That’s when my phone buzzes again.
This time, I answer.
-
Ummmmmm
I've forgotten I'm the writer cos I'm almost crying for her 😭😭
Poor girl. Should I say she was dense that she had to train a guy to school?
Let's listen to who the caller is sha 😉
Oya react to unlock next episode 🙏😂😀😒👍
- Writer
