I feel a pang in my chest, my heart heavy with sorrow. How did we end up here?
As the ceremony progresses, I'm lost in thought. Memories of Clyde and me flood my mind: our laughter, our adventures, our stolen moments.
The vows are exchanged, and Clyde places the ring on Anni's finger. The symbolism isn't lost on me – he's promising forever to my sister, not me.
As they seal their love with a kiss, I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I glance around, ensuring no one notices my distress.
The reception is a whirlwind of laughter, music, and champagne toasts. I play my role, smiling and congratulating the happy couple.
But beneath the surface, I'm dying inside.
As the night wears on, I find myself drawn to Clyde, our eyes meeting in fleeting moments. The tension between us is palpable, a secret only we share.
I know I should stay away, but my heart refuses to listen.
As I stand in the grand ballroom, surrounded by the opulent decorations and the gentle hum of conversation, I feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. The venue, a luxurious estate nestled in the heart of the city, is transformed into a fairytale setting. Crystal chandeliers refract the soft light, casting a warm glow over the guests.
The air is alive with laughter and music, as friends and family gather to celebrate Anni's union with Clyde. I watch as strangers become fast friends, bonding over their shared joy. The atmosphere is electric, filled with anticipation and happiness.
Anni and Clyde's love story is one for the ages – a whirlwind romance that swept them off their feet. They're the perfect couple, or so it seems.
My gaze drifts to the bride, resplendent in her ivory gown. Anni's blonde locks sparkle in the light, framing her heart-shaped face. Her blue eyes shine with happiness, and her smile can light up a room. She's always been the radiant one, spreading joy wherever she goes.
I, on the other hand, feel like a shadow of my former self. My long, black wavy hair cascades down my back, secured with delicate pins. My lavender dress hugs my curves, accentuating my porcelain skin. People often say I resemble the moon – a soft, ethereal glow. But today, that glow feels dimmed.
As I mingle with the guests, I'm stopped by well-wishers who compliment my appearance. "You look stunning, Dahlia," someone whispers. "You're the perfect maid of honor." I force a smile, thanking them, but the words feel hollow.
Aunt Sophia, resplendent in her emerald green dress, beams with pride. "My beautiful girls," she whispers, tears shining in her eyes. Uncle Jack, dashing in his tailored suit, wraps his arms around us. "We're so proud of you both."
The photographer requests a solo shot of Anni and Clyde. As they pose, I step aside, my eyes drifting to the crowd. That's when I see him – Clyde's best man, his eyes locked onto mine. I recognize the sympathy in his gaze, the unspoken understanding.
For a moment, I forget about the wedding, the guests, and the expectations. All I see is the quiet acknowledgment of my pain.
But the moment passes, and reality crashes back. I'm the maid of honor, the sister of the bride, and the secret lover of the groom.
As the reception begins, the room fills with the savory aromas of roasted meats and freshly baked bread. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter fills the air. I take my seat at the head table, trying to shake off the feeling of unease.
Anni and Clyde's first dance as a married couple is met with applause and cheers. They sway to the music, lost in each other's eyes. I watch, a mix of sadness and longing swirling inside me.
The evening wears on, filled with speeches, toasts, and well-wishes. I play my role, smiling and congratulating the happy couple. But beneath the surface, I'm dying inside.
As the night draws to a close, I find myself drawn to Clyde, our eyes meeting in fleeting moments. The tension between us is palpable, a secret only we share.
I know I should stay away, but my heart refuses to listen.
---
As I gaze at Anni and Clyde's happiness, my mind drifts to the what-ifs. What if Clyde had chosen me? What if our love story had been the one celebrated today?
I've always dreamed of marrying Clyde. My fantasy wedding was a whimsical affair, with lace and flowers, soft music, and warm sunlight filtering through the trees. I envisioned us exchanging vows in a secluded garden, surrounded by loved ones and the gentle rustle of leaves.
In my dreams, Clyde's eyes locked onto mine, filled with adoration and promise. He'd whisper his vows, his voice trembling with emotion, as I pledged my forever to him. We'd seal our love with a kiss, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over our union.
I saw us dancing under the stars, our first dance as husband and wife, with the world melting away. The music would swell, and Clyde's arms would wrap around me, holding me close as we swayed to the rhythm.
But life had other plans.
Anni's laughter breaks the spell, and I'm pulled back to reality. I force a smile, congratulating the happy couple once more.
As the evening wears on, I find myself lost in thought, reliving memories of Clyde and me. Our stolen moments, our whispered promises, our laughter-filled nights.
Why did fate have other plans? Why did Clyde choose Anni over me?
The questions swirl in my mind like a maelstrom, but I know I'll never have the answers.
For now, I'll play the role of the supportive sister, the loyal maid of honor. But deep down, my heart aches, mourning the loss of a love that could never be.
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