Dominic

Wedding morning. The house is buzzing — laughter, perfume, clinking champagne glasses. Joy at its peak… except inside me. Inside me, there’s only fire. Tension. My fingers still remember her skin. Her nails left marks on my back, like whispers saying: “This happened. This was real.” I lock myself in the bathroom. Cold water doesn’t help. Nothing does. Since the moment I first saw you — in that black dress, a tired smile breaking through the airport haze — I knew I was in trouble. And I let it happen. No… more than that. I needed it. You’re her best friend. And she’s marrying me today. Yet last night… you were with me. You whispered my name. You trembled beneath me. And I wanted every second of it. I still do. Too much. Now I hear your voice just beyond the door. You’re awake. And I’m supposed to look at you like you’re just another guest. But as you pass me in the hallway… you look at me. And every fuck€d-up, beautiful, forbidden second crashes back like a wave. God help me, because today I’m marrying someone… but you’re the only one I ever wanted to keep.