The Bride Who Never Was
When I spoke again, my voice was hoarse.
“Vincent, if there is a next life, let’s meet earlier. It doesn’t matter if it’s in the roughest streets of Brooklyn. It doesn’t matter if we spend our lives serving tables in some small diner. As long as you’re there, that’s enough for me.”
The video cut off abruptly. Vincent sat in the darkness. The glow of the screen flickered across his face. After a long silence, he replayed the video from the beginning.
On Valentine’s Day, February 14th, a year earlier, I had written in my diary. “Everyone on the street is a couple today. I bought chocolates, but I don’t know who to give them to. I’ll leave them in the fridge, but they’ll expire tomorrow.”
Hot Chapters