looked beautiful.
I wasn’t invited.
I didn’t attend.
I spent that Saturday morning at a coffee shop across town.
At 11:43, my phone buzzed.
A message from Madison.
I wore the first dress.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message.
It was actually prettier.
I didn’t know what to say.
Then:
I wish things were different.
I typed:
So do I.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Finally:
I’m sorry.
I read those two words several times.
I didn’t immediately forgive her.
Forgiveness wasn’t a switch.
But I appreciated
