After the Last Tear: Rising from the Ashes of a Broken Marriage By Cassila K

Chapter 28

When I got home from the hospital, I dug out a few dusty camera bags from the depths of the bookshelf.

They held remnants of a life I had deliberately buried.

The touch of the camera's casing felt unfamiliar, and the batteries had long since drained.

While waiting for the charger to finish, I inserted the memory card into my computer and opened those long-forgotten photos.

The first photo showed me treating a Black woman receiving cholera medication on the street.

The second was of a five-year-old child soldier, so small the rifle towered over him.

The third captured refugees in North Kivu province living under torn, tattered tents...

The smell of smoke and dust seemed to waft through the screen, piercing the present.

My heart clenched as if seized by sharp claws, the ache spreading through me.

Leaning back in my chair, I closed my eyes, trying to calm my racing pulse. A bitter smile tugged at my lips.

If Jackson saw these photos, would he still describe me as "obedient and docile"?

Just as that thought crossed my mind, my phone buzzed twice.

It was a message from Jackson: the restaurant's location.

That's when I remembered tonight was the gathering he'd arranged with his groomsmen and bridesmaids.

many close friends, so these

knew this wasn't just a

Sara had

I arrived at the restaurant, they'd

table, I saw Jackson seated at the head,

wasn't a

a faint, amused smile appeared on her lips.

chair and sit wherever

sat

all unfold with indifference, never uttering

the silence, asking, "Sara, we thought you wouldn't make it back this

kidding? This is Jackson's wedding! Even if I had to crawl, I'd

knowing glances exchanged around the table, their laughter tinged with sly

You and Jackson do share a special

conversation naturally revolved around Sara from

fishing for yellowfin tuna in the Mediterranean, trekking the Camino de Santiago

rapt

you're a woman! How do you even dare to

Sara glanced at me briefly, her

not the kind of woman who only thinks about cooking, husbands, and kids." Her words hung

of white liquor, the burning bitterness numbing my

she remained the center of attention, the life of the

wore on, everyone's focus

mostly quiet, had his

tender, so soft it

began sharing her recent experiences dealing with scammers