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.

close friends, so these were all his

this wasn't just a casual

today, Sara had

the time I arrived at the restaurant, they'd already

the table, I saw Jackson seated at the head, with

wasn't a seat for

appeared on

chair and sit wherever

chair over and sat at

unfold with indifference, never

broke the silence, asking, "Sara, we thought you

wedding! Even if I had to crawl, I'd be here to see what kind

with knowing glances exchanged around the table,

You and Jackson do share a

naturally revolved around Sara

Mediterranean, trekking the Camino de Santiago in Portugal, and climbing Uluru in

at the table listened with rapt attention, their eyes gleaming with

you even dare to

at me briefly, her tone light but laced with

the kind of woman who only thinks about cooking, husbands, and kids." Her

the burning

she remained the center of attention, the life

on, everyone's focus

quiet, had his eyes

gaze was tender, so soft it could

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