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.

  • knew this wasn’t just

  • Sara

  • 09:22

  • of Velvet Nights

  • 48.7%

  • Chapter 3

  • at the restaurant,

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

  • wasn’t a seat for

  • smile appeared on her lips. She

  • a chair and

  • sat at

  • with indifference, never uttering a word.

  • broke the silence, asking, “Sara, we thought you wouldn’t make it back this

  • you kidding? This is Jackson’s wedding! Even if I had to crawl, I’d be here to see what kind of woman

  • knowing glances exchanged around the table, their laughter tinged

  • sly undertones.

  • You and Jackson do

  • naturally revolved around

  • the Mediterranean, trekking the Camino de Santiago in Portugal,

  • table listened with rapt attention, their

  • a woman! How do you even dare

  • glanced at me briefly, her tone

  • not the kind of woman who only thinks about cooking, husbands,

  • hung in the air,

  • downed a small glass of white liquor, the burning bitterness numbing my tongue, stripping

  • of Velvet

  • 48.9%

  • Chapter 3

  • all flavor.

  • of attention, the life of the

  • wore on, everyone’s focus

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