On My Wedding Day 8

The champagne fizzed warm in my veins, loosening the edges of my fury as Damon and I worked through the mountain of wedding gifts, the mansion's living room a battlefield of torn wrapping paper and half unpacked treasures.

Midnight had come and gone, the clock's chime swallowed by the rustle of tissue and clink of crystal, David's absence stretching longer than his meeting excuse should allow.

We'd fallen into an uneasy rhythm, me sorting the small stuff on the couch, envelopes and jewelry spilling across my lap, him hauling the heavy boxes to the dining room, muscles straining under that crisp driver’s uniform that did nothing to hide the body I'd known for six years.

His stories had slipped out between lifts, old memories I'd tried to bury, that rainy night in our shitty apartment when he'd fucked me against the kitchen counter till my legs gave out, or the beach trip where we'd snuck off and he took me in the dunes, sand sticking to our sweat slick skin.

I'd laughed despite myse