Grabbing a bottle of champagne from
and chugging a fourth of it with her heart in pieces and her soul feeling raw.
A stray thought somewhere along the lines of
slices it's way through the jumbled mess of
that clouded her mind. The thought is devoured and forgotten as she stares at a slice of cake on the table in front of her.
A man she doesn't recognize, sitting at the next table over, looses his grip on his knife and cuts himself slightly with a hiss and a muttered "Shit." The metallic tang hits her nostrils.
A long-buried memory emerges and she bolts to the bathroom.
Dry heaving into a toilet, images of a man smiling proudly, crimson splashes across pale skin, and a glowing light blue framed in darkness assault her mind.
Momentarily, she longs to feel cold steel in the palm of her hand and sticky warmth dotting her knuckles.
Sitting on the curb in front of the reception hall, the bottle of champagne empty beside her curled up form and ice in her veins having nothing to do with the chilly night air, she sees
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