Saving Mom From My Toxic Ex
Language: en
A sudden, jarring fracture in reality propelled me five years into the future. In my memory, Dwight and I were just starting to plan our wedding. I remember the weight of the silk, the way the lace scratched my collarbone as I stepped out of the fitting room, my heart hammering against my ribs. I expected to see that look—the one where his breath hitches, where he looks at me like I’m the only light in a dark room. Instead, he just smiled. It was a practiced, hollow thing. He told me I looked beautiful in the gown, but his next words gutted me: he wouldn’t be the one standing at the end of…