The silence is so sharp I can practically hear it slicing through flower petals.
Valentina’s voice hangs in the air, vibrating with accusation, and every guest’s face turns toward me like sunflowers tracking the same storm. My bouquet feels heavier than it should, as if every white rose has learned the weight of betrayal. Diego’s hand tightens around mine, steady …
👇 👇 👇 👇 👇
