The Ruined Bride of Velvet Nights by Brick Moving Ant

Chapter 57

  • Chapter 3

  • 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.

  • I didn’t have many close friends, so these were all his people.

  • I knew this wasn’t just a casual get–together.

  • Sara had

  • 09:22

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  • Chapter 3

  • I arrived at the restaurant,

  • I saw Jackson seated at the head, with Sara beside

  • seat for me.

  • a faint, amused smile appeared on her

  • chair and sit wherever you

  • a chair over and sat at the farthest

  • it all unfold with

  • we thought

  • had to crawl, I’d be here to see

  • were met with knowing glances exchanged around

  • sly undertones.

  • that’s true. You and Jackson do share a special bond.”

  • conversation naturally revolved around

  • her adventures: fishing for yellowfin tuna in the Mediterranean, trekking

  • listened with rapt attention,

  • you’re a woman! How do you even dare to

  • glanced at me briefly, her

  • of woman who only

  • hung in the air, sharp and cutting.

  • downed a small glass of white liquor, the burning

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  • Chapter 3

  • of all

  • center of attention, the

  • night wore on, everyone’s focus stayed fixed

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