This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
The pathetic mantra plays in my head. I don’t know how long. Hours? Minutes? Does time mean anything?
The concrete grinds my knees through the tuxedo pants. My hands grip the iron railing.
How long have I been here?
I shift my weight to stand, but my legs have gone numb. They tingle with the rush of blood.
Too long, I guess. I slump over to my side to just let the blood flow more freely in my limbs.
Gone. My bride. With him? I just don’t understand. What did I do?
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