Samantha’s Unwritten Vows

The aisle stretched longer that day, a white river with no other shore. Her fingers crushed the lace of her gown— Where is he? The guests’ whispers grew teeth, gnawing the silence between hymns. Later, they’d say he was the villain, the man who fled his own shadow. No one mentioned the envelope thick with cash in the sexton’s pocket, or the father’s wine-stained lips sealing a lie: “She deserves better.” (Oh, but the knife twists when the hand you kiss sharpens the blade.) Samantha collects the petals of her bouquet one by one each a word from a vow she’ll never hear.