Breath Held
Air trapped in my lungs. An unseen vise gripped my chest, suffocating me. The boulder lodged there choked my voice. Café chatter faded; my world narrowed to that electronic invitation—its blinding white and those paired names. Tremors seized my hands, fingers icy and numb, threatening to drop the phone. "Not real…" a faint voice screamed in my mind. "Prank? Or… just a namesake?" But Mark. My Mark. Who’d held me tightly last night, whispered sweet goodnights, and eagerly discussed weekend furniture shopping. Each word now burned like a red-hot needle into my heart.
Illusion?
I stared until my eyes ached. Could I be mistaken? Trembling fingers zoomed the image, nails digging into the cold screen. "Mark Lee." The unmistakable letters, brutally clear, slammed into my vision. Him. No doubt. So… who was Lia? This bubbly girl who’d added me—who was she? A brazen taunt? Flaunting her wedding invitation to my husband—no, to Mark—right before me? Was she mad?
Frozen Fingers
Another buzz. Lia sent a voice note. Shaky finger pressed play. "Sister Amy! Got the invite? Ahhh, I'm so thrilled! Took all my courage to add you!" Background noise hinted she was outdoors. "I've followed your account since college! Saved every outfit—you're my idol! Seriously!" Pure, earnest adoration. "Marrying next month! Feels like a dream!" She paused, breath catching. "Um… need a huge favor! I know it's bold… but…" Her voice hushed shyly: "Sister Amy… would you… be my bridesmaid?"
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