Occupational Hazards

BlogTheTroublewithJaneMedium

 

Amriel wasn’t stupid. He knew what could happen if he used the vial. Upsetting the natural continuum of events could be disastrous and revenge wasn’t something he was comfortable with. There were other guardians for that, namely the fates and karma.

However, he could not stop himself from wanting to secure a resolution for Jane now instead of waiting. Heaven was a place of infinity, an endless landscape with no ending or beginning where instant gratification seemed foolish and terribly selfish.  His wings continued to twitch against their confinement as he made his way along the hallways and came upon the wide expanse that was the law firm’s kitchen and lounge, the voice in his head at odds with the one quietly whispering in his heart.

Amriel put a hand on the wall, a wave of nausea tumbling his insides. Angels were made to protect and prod non-believers toward devotion. Instead he felt a cold, sheen of sweat coat the back of his neck when he thought about dumping the black dust into the unattended mug. It hardly mattered that the reaction would be swift and undetectable.

Dear God, he’d changed.

Once a loyal and humble servant, it had all begun to fall apart with the arrival of Jane and her devastated heart. Right or wrong was no longer a consideration, he simply wanted to grant his charge a chance at happiness even if it meant compromising the life of Charles Wakeford.

His queasiness abated and he straightened plunging his hand into his pocket for the vial.

The dust in the flask wasn’t the dark, sinister purple it had been just moments ago. Instead it sparkled and bubbled inside the glass, a red the color of beating hearts, painted lips and swollen bouquets.

Had Nanael and Miniel conspired with the fates on his behalf?

Before he could curse his fellow guardians for their carelessness he spotted a profile out of the corner of his eyes; arms folded tightly against a chest and lips set in a horizontal grimace.

Raguel.

The nausea threatened again and Amriel realized he had precious little time. He covered the space between himself and the mug in three strides, emptying the contents and sealing his fate.

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Amriel: The angel of May

Nanael:  The angel who governs science

Miniel : The angel invoked to induce love

Raguel: The angel who watches over the behavior of angels. 

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Using the following prompts:

 

Studio30Plus’s prompt:

Our prompt comes from Stephanie, at From My Write Side, “And There Was Nothing They Could Do About It.”

“… it all began to fall apart.”

Tipsy Lit:

Risky Business

Tipsy Lit Prompted

And thank you so much to SAM for offering up “The Trouble with Jane” as a title for this series.

You can see all the chapters of The Angel Sagas by clicking the tab at the top of this page. 

Procurement

Amriel’s wings twitched under the trench coat as he strode down the street. He wore a faded brown fedora he’d snagged from Lameschial before he left the hospital room offering strict instructions to his two colleagues but vague references as to where he was headed.

Thinking about Jane’s sleeping body and her anguished heart caused his wings, eager to unfurl, to flutter against their forced imprisonment again.

He sidestepped the cracks in the concrete, still suspicious even after all these years, and kept his head down as he passed the hooligans clustered at the corner of 10th and Carson ignoring their petty cons and shenanigans .

Amriel was angry.

Anger didn’t come naturally to angels.

Frustration at the sight of human unkindness? Sure. Disappointment with a flawed soul refusing to learn from the lessons thrust upon them? Yes, it happened every day. He’d even felt moments of torment or plain grief as he watched events unfold saddened by the knowledge that there was nothing his hand could do to stop them, but anger was a new and especially frightening emotion.

Angels were built for forgiveness or empathy, but Amriel crossed the street to the high rise building he was headed with Jane’s guttural wail of despair echoing in his ears. Touching the brim of the hat, as if he were straightening it and pinching the bridge of his nose,  he willed the sound to recede.

His body burned with rage.

He’d never believed it could happen to him when he’d been warned over and over again about the risks of becoming too close to a charge. Amriel was the angel of a beautiful and especially serene month and no appointment he’d ever been given up to this point had turned out to be anything but a chance to right a wrong.

But Jane was different in ways Amriel couldn’t explain.

Coming through the front door of the law office he made his way to the front desk where the trench coat draped over his arm, his beautifully tailored suit and hat in hand offered him entrance to the inner sanctum.

As he moved through the halls  his hand cradled a small tube of fine dust he’d drawn from his pocket; similar to the pink dust Kabshiel has sprinkled over Jane, but a purple so dark it appeared black.

Going off grid was not advised and Amriel knew he would be dealt with severely but he took comfort in knowing the reason Jane was not healing was because the heart her own was still attached to felt no sorrow or remorse.

It was time to right that particular wrong.

 

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You’re not going to believe it but I’ve wanted to write this piece since Sunday.

Work is crazy.

Home life after mini-vacations is crazy.

I am tired.

But!!!

I used three different prompts to write this newest installment to my story about angels.

(Anyone have any good ideas for a title of this series? All opinions welcome!)

 

 

From Studio 30Plus: 

This week’s Studio 30+  prompt comes from Ashley, at Fictional Fool, who gave us “Buried Treasure,” 

“He wore a faded brown fedora.”

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From Light and Shade Challenge: 

If you wish me to weep, you must mourn first yourself.

Horace (65 BC – 8 BC)
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And from Master Class (the weekly challenges) 
I used the words HOOLIGAN(last week) and SHENANIGANS (this week)

 

I invite anyone here from any of the challenges to come write with another one. I am so proud to be a “Prompt Diva” with Tara (Thin Spiral Notebook) over at Studio30Plus and we have lots of exciting things planned for our community. Please come #WriteWithUs.

The Space Between: The Love Story of Kimmy & David: Chapter 12 {Write on Edge}

 

continued from here:

 

Nico unzipped his wetsuit and peeled the material from his body, allowing the early morning sun to dry his skin.  Running a soft towel he’d pilfered from the beach cart on his way down to the rocks through his damp black curls, he realized with sudden clarity that his affair with Daniela was (finally and almost certainly)  over.

A sense of relief flooded his senses as he grabbed his stuff and started up the stone stairs toward the center of town. He’d been feeling the pull of both the bull and the bear for a few weeks now, his brain itching to calculate and manipulate numbers, his neck missing the silken noose of a Windsor knot. For as sweet and sensual as their time had been, Dani (even a tipsy and naked Dani) would never hold his attention the way the floor of the exchange could.

Nico reached the top of the stairs, heading toward the hotel to pack and book a flight back to New York City before he had time to change his mind, when his phone hummed with an instrumental version of Volare that Dani had insisted he download.

He mentally reminded himself to delete it as he answered.

Ciao

“Nico! Enjoying your sabbatical?”

“Marco! Fratello!!”

Marco’s chuckle traveled across the Atlantic to Nico who instantly became even more homesick.

Cavolo! How the hell are you Marco?”

“I’m good, but Mom misses you. I think it’s probably the stock tips.”

Vaffaculo!” Nico shot back, settling into the easy banter of twins.

“Ah I see Dani is teaching you all the important phrases” Marco tossed back with Nico catching the hitch in his brother’s voice and familiarity as he said her name before he cleared his throat and shot back, “and you can go fuck yourself too.”

“It’s nice to see nothing changes with us, Marco.” Nico chuckled and then remembered his brother’s impending nuptials. “So how is our Kimmy?”

His brother hesitated a fraction of a second too long, “She’s why I’m calling Nic, Kim’s been talking to David.”

Words got stuck in Nico’s throat at the sound of the name. “Just talking?” he asked.

“I saw him kiss her in a parking lot last week.”

“Oh that ragazza sciocca, silly, silly girl.” Nico said more to himself than Marco. “but…”

Marco’s sighed, “She kissed back. More than once.”

Nico let a long low whistle pass between their cell phones, “When should I expect you?”

“I’m already here, at the airport in Naples.”

“Ah, and Kimmy?”

“Well for now, she obviously needs a little time and I need some distance.”

Nico nodded as if Marco could see him, “I’m on my way.”

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this week for WRITE ON EDGE

“Time is the longest distance between two places.”
~Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie

and a continuation of my WIP:
The Love Story of Kimmy & David

Last Season’s Love? {Trifecta} {Chapter 11: The Love Story of Kimmy & David}

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Nico stood with his toes hugging the edge of the cliff.

Taking in the glorious sunrise of Positano this “land of a thousand steps” was more beautiful than any place he’d ever seen.

Arms pinned at his side, he pushed off in a rush of air,  executing a perfect pencil dive. Nico plummeted nine feet, past jagged rocks and hidden stone crevices, hoping the babychain hadn’t lied.

Pure ecstasy, mixed with exhilaration and fear as he surfaced.

Swimming leisurely to shore, Nico wondered if Dani if had returned to the villa. She’d left before dawn, her exit a message of independence and indifference. He pretended not to care; their arrangement was one of lust not love, excitement not expectation.

He reached the rocky beach of the Amalfi Coast, where the oceanfront was quiet, catching site of the dome of Santa Maria Assunta shimmering high above him.

In their early days,  Dani had  talked of the church often , her descriptions making even a house of God seem sensual.

Vieni a casa con me” she’d whispered over dinners and walks in Central Park, “Come home with me Nico.” she’d purr, “Come. And I’ll show you the true Italy”

It had not taken much to persuade him. Soon, he was informing his firm of a leave of absence and his days became filled with the sweet touch of Daniela; her legs spread, his mind opened.

But these days he worried about a funk.

Just last night on the piazza they’d sipped Limocello, both eager to escape to the canopied bed at the Palazzo Murat, but the aftermath of  their  romp produced an uneasy silence instead of their usual (intimate)  slip into satisfied sleep.

 He’d long accepted they were never meant to last but Nico now feared their affair was una donna finita, no longer in fashion.

 

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continuing my WIP:  “The Love Story of Kimmy & David

Trifecta’s word of the week is FUNK.

if you’ve missed any of this LOVE STORY, you can click HERE to catch up.

The Love Story of Kimmy & David Chapter 10 (A Hot Mess) {Studio 30Plus}

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continued from HERE:

 

Knock, Knock, Knock.

Kimmy ignored the rapping and reached for her universal remote.

“Kimmy, I know you’re in there.”

She pointed it at the TV.

More.Volume.

“Kimber, c’mon,I can hear Oprah.” Liza accused.  “OPEN THIS DOOR!”

Kimmy sighed and sat up, feet on the ground but not moving.

“I could just use my key.” Liza threatened with the jingling of metal sneaking through the door.

Kimmy forced her own voice, “It’s bolted.”

Kimmy heard Liza’s bottom hit the hallway floor.

“I said I was sorry. I just want you to be happy.”

Knowing her best friend’s penchant for stubbornness, she unwrapped herself from her fuzzy blanket. She pushed the bolt, turned the lock and the door swung open on Liza but Kimmy refused to make eye contact with her as she made her way back to the couch.

Liza followed, kicking her shoes off and stashing her purse on the dining room table. As she settled on the couch beside her best friend, who was already horizontal, she surveyed the situation.

Kimmy’s chic blonde cut was a rat’s nest of tangles, her face was blotchy and sallow while her flannel PJ bottoms were stained in various places. Kimmy looked like she was in a semi-permanent state of self medication, as evidenced by the wrinkled bag salt & vinegar chips and open bag of Oreo cookies (her drugs of choice) and the three (in various stages of being consumed) bottles of  Diet Coke strewn around her substitute bed.

A veritable hot mess.

Liza glanced down at her best friend’s phone, “MAILBOX FULL” glared back.

“So, we’re preparing for the Apocalypse?” Liza joked.

The bundled mound that was Kimmy simply moaned.

Liza picked up an Oreo and pulled it apart, licking all the white cream before popping both chocolate pieces into her mouth, “It’s been 4 days Kim, don’t you want to talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“How about a little at a time?” Liza offered to the mound, holding out a cookie.

Kimmy  disentangled and pushed herself to a sitting position before grabbing and rolling the black cookie around in her fingers. Liza saw her trying to form the words.

“I love both of them.” She said and fell back against her pillow, exhausted with the effort of the confession.

Liza kept licking.

“And, it’s three months before my wedding. “ Kimmy added; an afterthought.

Liza reached for her friend and was suddenly aware of Kimmy’s left hand. The twinkling diamond was missing.

Liza swallowed the cookie, pushing down her questions with the weight of the crumbs.

“I love Marco, Lize.” Kimmy voice was little, like a squeak.

A nod from Liza.

Shame flamed her cheeks.

“But I never stopped loving David.”

“Yep, got all that from your phone call. Not that I didn’t already know.”

“What if he hurts me again, Lize? What if he changes his mind and pushes me away?

Liza simply shrugged, helpless to answer.

“And Marco; sweet, wonderful Marco, what’s not to love? I mean who wouldn’t love Marco? Me! That’s who. But you know I don’t. Not like David. He’s going to be a great husband and a terrific dad but I don’t love him. Not the way I should.” Kimmy splayed her hands, “What kind of marriage would that be, if I just marry him out of loyalty?”

Liza grabbed another cookie, “Only you know the answer to that sweetie. “

Kimmy sighed deeply and fiddled with her empty ring finger, twisting an invisible band while Liza witnessed two fat tears trail their way down her best friend’s cheek.

Liza snuggled up close to her, “The good news is you don’t have to decide today. Not if you don’t want to.”

Accepting the reprieve Kimmy lowered her head to Liza’s shoulder murmuring, “Tomorrow.”

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This week’s prompt: “A SEMI-PERMANENT STATE OF SELF-MEDICATION”

brought to us from Katy Wolfe Brandes in JUST LIKE A DREAM

 

if you’ve missed any of the installments  of Kimmy & David you can click HERE.

 

Love’s Respite {Write at the Merge}

The bells of St Brigit’s are calling tonight.

Josie hurriedly made the sign of the cross and pressed the accelerator causing the car to hug the curb around the old wooden church and nearly take out Sister Agnes’ prize begonias.

The last time she’d noticed their chiming he’d been courting her.  

“I really like you.” She’d tendered, playing coquette.

“I feel so much more.” He’d answered, as if he’d meant it.

Josie remembered swooning.

True love is always the tease’s downfall.

Sadly, he’d never meant it.

“Oh, Georgie…” she whispered as she sped toward the beach and forgiveness.

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I missed the prompt last week so I decided to combine both this week.

100 words about the bells of St. Brigit’s and words written in sand.

If you must speak ill of another, do not speak it, write it in the sand near the water’s edge.
~Napoleon Hill

The Love Story of Kimmy & David {Chapter 8}

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I posted a piece of this fiction serial.

We left off with Liza running out on Kimmy after she confesses that she is considering meeting David for lunch.

 

 

 

“Thanks for coming.” Kimmy watched David’s face as he said the words.

The smile he offered, she mirrored.

Giddy.

For all the time they had dated, David had never gone through this much trouble to set a mood.

The restaurant was quiet and charming, the only noise coming from the the wait staff  and a pop station in the background.

David touched her hand, locking eyes with her.

Kimmy suddenly couldn’t breathe.

David was not a man of public displays, and so she held on to his fingers like a life raft, searching his face for an explanation.

“Kimmy” he started, eyes still not letting go of hers “will you, would you consider” he stammered, he let his eyes drop and then brought them up, “Go to the movies with me this afternoon?”

Kimmy was taken aback, another surprise as she calculated another few hours with him.

She pushed her food away, no longer hungry for anything more than this.

David waved for the check, tossed a few bills on the tablecloth and followed her out.

She felt him taking in all of her; legs in that skirt, heeled wedges and her curves meeting in the middle. Before she could allow him time to catch up, his hand was at the small of her back.

Kimmy stumbled, but righted herself, refusing to miss this,  allthe little things she’d always longed for.

She tried not to think of Marco.

Twirling the diamond on her left hand, she thought about taking it off, putting it in her purse, but the diamond was not the problem, Marco was not the problem.

Her own yearning was.

She wanted to forget her world and occupy this one, the one where her dreams came true when they were supposed to, when affection for her lit David’s eyes.

If I can have that for a few more hours”, she bargained, “I’ll take it.

Kimmy didn’t remember the ride to the theater,  couldn’t tell you how the tickets were purchased or conjure up the way they’d ended up in reclining seats in the dark.

Because once they were settled, once the cup holders were filled and cell phones were silenced David made his intentions very clear.

His hands in her hair.

She moved her hands to his, playfully tousling

One hand slid down her face to cup her cheek.

She leaned into his palm, sighing deeply

His other hand landed on her knee and when she didn’t move to remove it, he slid it up into her skirt.

Kimmy shuddered, lost in this movie they were making instead of watching the one they’d paid for.

Finally, after an eternity, David’s lips found hers.

She kissed him back, tasting everything he couldn’t say. 

If this is a dream she thought,  God please don’t wake me up.

She drowned in the rush of emotion, pouring all her passion into his mouth.

Her thoughts were so scattered, but the one that kept bobbing to surface, was clear:

I am in love with two men, I want both of them” 


They broke away from each other, panting softly, pausing for a moment to regroup and then consume one another again.

David looked at her in the dark, want written all over his handsome face, his voice husky with it, he pushed out one word: “Kim?”

Kimmy had only one answer, “More.”

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If you’ve missed any of Kimmy & David, you can find them right here.

Thanks for coming by!

 

Behind Blue Eyes {Write on Edge/Trifecta}

Daphne realized the enormity of the snub as she applied a third coat of mascara.

Robotic and familiar her fingertips rubbed blush into the apple of her cheeks and then rummaged through the cases and brushes before selecting a palette, sliding the bristles across the powdery hue before transferring it onto her eyelids in swift easy strokes.

Her hair was dry but hanging in her eyes and her lips were bare, waiting for a ruby stripe of color to perk them up.

When was the last time she’d looked at herself?

Weeks?

Months?

Under the fluorescent lights of her bathroom she calculated;  ticked off the moments when she’d glanced at an outfit, straightened a skirt or decided on a shoe in the glass without allowing her gaze to creep up to her own face. Suddenly nauseous and dizzy Daphne gripped the ceramic sink to steady herself.

It was an old joke that her hazel eyes became indigo when she was sad seemingly taking on the color of her disposition.

They were her tell-tale heart. Spilling all her secrets even when her glossy red mouth lifted in a smile; a weak, airy phantom of a happiness she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

She wondered how much longer she would pine for what could have been without sinking down into a bed of hopelessness? Or how many times she could refuse to have her picture taken for fear of what the film would expose? Days would  eventually melt into weeks until she’d  stand at another porcelain pedestal  and confess that she was existing in a half life, ignoring her existence  and waiting for the jolt that would startle her back into her own life.

Stand back folks, turn up the juice. 

Yearning for a peaceful end to it was what forced her eyes up and into deep pools of azure, as blue as the Caribbean.

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Write on Edge’s Prompt this week is
PINE

Trifecta’s Prompt this week is

Phantom:

3 :  a representation of something abstract, ideal, or incorporeal – 

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I am also excited to call myself a Published Author this week.
My story “Kismet’s Kiss” is part of

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Precipice Volume 2, The Literary Anthology of Write on Edge. 

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Have you picked up your copy yet?

It is a fantastic collection of stories, poems and memoirs from some of the best voices on the internet.

I promise you’ll love it.

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Without A Net {Trifextra} (Shelby & Gunnar)

It might hurt.

It’s not supposed to, but sometimes it will.

Just like washing your hands of something does more than eliminate germs.

Let go” you urge.

Love beckons.

Will you catch me?

 

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For Trifecta this weekend we were given this quote

“It’s like the smarter you are, the more things can scare you.” 

and asked to tell you what we (or our character) is afraid of.

I was thinking of my recurring heroine Shelby when I wrote this.

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Thanks for coming over to read, hope you’re having a wonderful weekend.

The Love Story of Kimmy & David (Chapter 7)

Still following along? Needing a weekly chapter?

Here is where I left off with the love story: with David’s  3am call…

 

 

Liza adjusted the tiara on her head, her shiny chestnut hair making room for it like it belonged there. She leaned into the mirror and wiped lipstick from the corner of her mouth.

She yelled into the dressing room, “Kimber, I totally think that bridesmaids should wear crowns”, practicing her queen wave for the mirror.

“Yep, I’m sure you do” Kimmy stage whispered back, “but you know that only the bride wears one, and I’m the bride.” 

Kimmy heard Liza snort.

“Hey! I heard that. ” Kimmy said trying not to smile and pulled back the curtain, revealing herself to her best friend.

Liza gasped then Oohed and Ahhed her way around Kimmy.

“Oh my god, Kim, that dress is, well,  it’s, I mean WOW! You look stunning…”

Kimmy sighed happily and stared at herself in the full length mirror. The cap sleeves, the cinched bodice. A dress the color of her grandma’s pearls, an overlay of appliqué with tiny delicate flowers marching to the bottom and all along the train. She felt like a princess.

Not willing to break the moment, both girls leaned together and  tried to catalog this moment, burning it into the scrapbook of their history.

Kimmy was so lost in reverie she didn’t even think about the repercussions when she blurted, “Did I tell you that David called?”

She watched Liza eyes flash in the glass, the smile lighting her face seconds ago was  gone.

Kimmy realizing she had miscalculated, wished all her words back.

“Lize…” she started

But Liza rolled her eyes and turned to face her, “I knew he would. God why did I have run into him?”

“Well maybe it was a sign.” Kimmy said, her voice just a squeak.

“A sign? A sign!” Liza said in a voice that was climbing in volume  “of course, you’d think it was a sign! Of what? Impending doom,the end of happiness as we know it, please tell me what could David being back in your life be.a.sign.of?” She spat, watching the words find their mark.

Kimmy’s silence and tear filled eyes just fueled Liza’s anger “What the HELL does he want?”

Kimmy smoothed her bodice, running her hands along the flowers and then let her hands rest at her hips,  “He asked me not to marry Marco. He said he loves me”.

“Jesus.” Liza  said right before she flung the tiara from her head in the general direction of Kimmy. “We’re here to settle on a dress for your wedding, Kimmy. Your wedding to Marco, remember him?”

Liza looked possessed, “2 years, Kimber, 2 Goddamn years! He had a lifetime to tell you whatever he wanted to. Now four months before your wedding, he decides he loves you. I wish I’d never seen him, I should have known he’d pull this shit now.”

She waited for words, something from Kimmy. Some small sign that she wasn’t talking to herself, but when she looked into those big blue eyes all she could see was sweet Kimmy, 8 years old, 12 years old, 18 and 29 years old; naïve and trusting, convinced of the pureness of other people’s words and a hopeless romantic at heart.

This was a disaster.

The wheels in her mind were already working overtime to stop this runaway train wreck just as a thought was dawning on her.

Liza, suspicious now, asked a question she wasn’t sure she wanted answered, “Kimmy, when are meeting him?”

“Liza, please try to understand” she begged.

Liza held her hand up, stopping the conversation.

“When?”

“Tomorrow. For lunch” Kimmy said, her face resembling a deflated balloon.

Liza lunged and Kimmy cupped her face like she had been slapped. Liza hadn’t hit her but the digust on her face smarted like a palm smacking her cheek. . Kimmy clutched her middle, waves of nausea and shame forcing her body into an overstuffed chair in the dressing room. She put her face in her hands, brushing at the tears that were now coursing down her face.

She waited for Liza to keep yelling or try to convince her not to go, while half of her hoped her best friend would just sit down next to her and calmly tell her it was all going to be okay.

Instead, Liza grabbed her purse and without a word, turned on her heel, leaving her best friend sobbing  in her wedding dress.

 

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I just want to say that if you are one of the 3 people reading this story, it means a lot to me.
THANK YOU!
Hope you’re having a great day!

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rydolphmindy mikkelsen_selina@mailxu.com
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