turned on her heel and hurried toward the bridal suite.
Her pulse raced, her mind spinning. But one thing was certain—she needed to talk to Claire. And she needed to do it now.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire sat on the floor, still in her wedding dress, the heavy fabric pooling around her like a ghost of what should have been.
Mascara streaked down her cheeks, smudges of black staining the pristine white lace of her sleeves. She looked up as
Olivia stepped inside, but she didn’t speak. The silence between them was thick, heavy with words unsaid.
Olivia took a deep breath, shutting the door behind her with a quiet click. She didn’t sit right away. Instead, she studied Claire, the way her shoulders shook, the way her hands clenched and unclenched in her lap.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Olivia finally asked, her voice softer
than she expected.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
Claire let out a shaky laugh, one with no real humor. “Tell you what? That my fiancé had feelings for my best friend? That I hated you for it?”
Olivia’s stomach twisted. She had spent so long trying to figure out what she had done wrong, why Claire had pushed her away, and now—now it all made sense. “Claire, I never—”
“I know.” Claire wiped at her face angrily, as if frustrated with her own emotions. “I know you never encouraged it. I know it’s not your fault. But I couldn’t stop myself from resenting you.
Every time he looked at you, I felt like I was losing him. And then when he told me the truth, I snapped. I wanted to hurt you because I was hurting.”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
