A few days later, a cream-colored envelope arrived.
Inside was a gold-embossed invitation:
“Ryan & Chloe. Join us as we celebrate love.”
The venue?
Azure Coast.
The same place Ryan and I once talked about celebrating our anniversary.
I laughed — the kind of laugh that comes right before you break.
I didn’t RSVP.
On their wedding day, I stayed home.
No makeup. No calls.
Just me, my couch, and a movie I wasn’t really watching.
Then my phone rang.
It was Mia.
“Turn on Channel 4. Now.”
I grabbed the remote.
And there it was.
The venue… on fire.
Not metaphorically.
Literally burning.
Guests ran out in tuxedos and gowns. Smoke filled the air. Sirens blared.
“A decorative candle caught the drapes,” the reporter said. “The venue has been evacuated.”
Then the camera cut to them.
Chloe — mascara streaked, dress covered in ash.
Ryan — shouting, frantic.
“They didn’t even make it to the vows,” Mia said. “Right before ‘I do.’”
I closed my eyes.
Not out of joy.
But for the first time…
I felt peace.
“I guess karma didn’t want to miss the wedding,” I whispered.
