PENELOPE
I arrived at the altar at seven o'clock in the evening, the appointed time for the big day when two people unite their lives. I stepped out of my white Rolls-Royce and walked in my golden Jimmy Choo heels, wearing Chanel red lipstick on my lips. The elegance of my steps drew a lot of attention.
All eyes were on me as I advanced towards the altar in my fitted red dress, showcasing the curves of my body in harmony, giving me that air of elegance that I so loved.
There he was, dressed in his finest, as handsome and perfect as I remembered him. He paled when he turned his back and saw me for the first time in a long time.
I smiled at him, for he was seeing a ghost.
"Who is she?" asked the woman standing beside him, dressed like a bride ready to make vows of eternal love.
We held our breath. Years had passed since I last saw him, years during which I had gone crazy in love with him, before he abandoned me, before his betrayal.
"She is Penelope, my wife," he said with barely a thread of a voice.