Stripped Down

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I’d set flame to that perfect piece of art. Scorched it with a lie because I knew she was too perfect, too pure for me.

Even now, all these years later, I saw the look on her face–the devastated expression that told me I’d crushed her. All that beauty fractured with one lie.

It broke her.

It destroyed me.

The last time I saw her had unhinged me. It had been years, but Sammy had still managed to devastate me with a look. Then, she slapped me right across the face.

But today, in this holy place, at this time, she should know I would find her. I was better prepared this time. I could wait. I could watch and see her pristine self. A perfect vision in her black dress and black hat, clutching her red rosary beads as she closed her eyes and prayed.

Not for me.

No.

Never.