Emma

I’m perched on the edge of Iva’s bed, eyes fixed on the laptop until they start to sting. The wedding photo sits at the center of the screen, and something inside me quietly splinters. 

A man stands beside my mother, his arm wrapped around her waist like he never intends to let her go. She looks unbelievably happy, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that lights up her entire face and creases the corners of her eyes. 

he looks so young, so beautiful in her white dress, the fabric flowing.

She doesn’t look like the woman I remember from later years. She looks like someone full of hope...