Eight Years, A Twisted Play

out of my daze. It was M

ver to The Black Rose.

against my ribs.

d... well, you should probab

al blow. Of course. The white whale

ying to force the tremor out of

ed on a box sitting on the entryway table. It was filled with our wedding invitations, the ones I

t to be mailed

chen, and emptied the entire contents into the trash can. I didn't

the first real decision I had made

ked, loud music thumping through the walls. As I pushed

e Davis is back?

divorced. Ethan must

n my stomach. I steeled myself, smoothed d

n't feel. A mask of indiff

pped. Conversations faltered. Heads turned. It was like a scene

en I s

iery red hair. He was leaning in close, whispering something in her ear, his face buri

the thousands of photos o

g, breathing reality right in front of me. The betrayal

e a mask of panic. He tri

re you doing?

barely registered Mark's prese

"Leave me alone. Can't you see I'm busy?" Hi

Ethan drunk before, but never like this. This wasn't just drunk; this was

perate. "Ethan, your wedding is

away from Chloe. It was a clumsy, awkward struggle. They w

im to his feet. He stumbled, h

rashed to the floor with a heavy thu

He turned to me, his expression full of apology. "Ava, I'm