The Price of Her Indifference

t slumped in the hospital chair. The past five years

h some other woman, leaving Sophia a wreck. I had been there for her, a loyal friend picking up the pieces of her shatt

as doing my best to console her. She had too much wine, and her grief had curdled into a desperate need

ark

quietly in love with her for years, didn' t correct her. I let her use me, pretending for on

ry me. I think, in her mind, it was the practical thing to do. The Miller family

build a real life together. I planned the wedding with meti

ugh her smile never quite reached her eyes. We were standing at the altar, the priest

rowed in annoyance. It was a vi

t pale. She

rapped around his head. He looked weak and pathetic. He was crying, telling her the other wo

ned to me. The priest had stopped talking.

said, her voice flat,

I reached for her hand, but she pulled away. "We' re g

es fixed on the phone screen, on

the words tearing from my th

ked past me, at her family in the fr

sorry,

e, down the aisle, past all our friends and family, out of the church, and out of my life.

pital bed a continent away, o