h Liam. The white roses he had sent me this morning were already starting to wilt in the

ck. It wasn't my shade. It was Chloe' s signature color, a garish pink she wore like a weapon. I had seen her in photos, always smiling, always looki

e message, my thumb hovering over the screen. My fingers trembled, not with sadness anymore, but

oolishness. With a single, decisive snip, I cut into the delicate silk. The sound of the fabric tearing was more satisfying than any scream. I kept cu

Maya, stood in the doorway, her eyes wide w

ing venue, the opulent Grand Astoria Hotel. He had held my hand, looked into my eyes, and said, "Only the best for my future wife." His w

been slowly seeping into my life. Well, the antidote was fury. I looked at the ruined dress, then at my phone. I wasn't just going to can