He Divorced Me On Our Anniversary
When the speech finally ends, the music kicks back in louder than before, like everyone’s trying to drown it out.
Then something happens, It’s small, almost nothing.
The lights flicker just once then again.
People laugh nervously, someone shouts something joking about ghosts, and then one of the booths near the edge collapses, the wood giving way with a loud crack that makes everyone jump.
No one gets hurt a couple of people scramble back, someone curses, a kid starts crying until their mom scoops them up.
“Everything’s fine,” Ruth yells. “It’s fine just give us a second.”