Damien Shaw

Imogene is standing by the altar, resplendent in a pale orange dress that makes her glow despite the dark skies. Wisps of hair frames her face, and a delicate glint of gold gleams around her neck.

If I were a bride, I would never let her in my wedding party because she outshines everyone around her.

Every time, a million times over.

Orange instead of white. Bridesmaid instead of bride.

It isn’t our wedding, but seeing her up there, looking so damn beautiful I can’t believe she’s real...it’s an excruciating reminder of what I’d had.

And what I’d lost.

But at least now there’s hope. Keith is out...