He was so happy with her. Kyle and his new bride. I watched them dance in the middle of the dance floor, his eyes not leaving her once. I bet he's thinking about her naked. Probably, he's Kyle.
And he's also my best friend. I want nothing more than the best for him.
I smile softly at them. I'm Kyle's Best Woman, instead of Best Man. We do know everything about each other, and we've settled for friends. We still text, and he's growing stronger. He's able to be a lean on for me at times.
Yes, Kyle let me wear a dress. I wore a gorgeous golden one. They also had a Starfleet theme for bridesmaids and groomsmen, so I wore my Maid of Honor dress I wore at Selar's wedding. It was a beautiful golden color, rich in design and sequins. In my hair Kyle had let me keep a red peacock shaped hair clip, which I wore with my hair curled and pinned back.
Many people told me I looked stunning, and beautiful. I posted my best wishes to Kyle, and his new bride. It was a picture of the wedding party. And of course his new wife looked stunning in her fancy white dress.
But his new wife is perfect. She's stunningly beautiful, and I am told she's barely wearing any makeup. Her name is Heather- a much prettier name than Heather. Heather Kirk sounds better than Alana Kirk-Pike ever would. It just never felt, or sounded... right.
I look at my left ring finger at where a ring used to sit on my hand. It is gone now; it was a beautiful gold band with a few diamonds on it. I am faintly reminded of it if I look hard enough, a little spot that is permanently lighter from the lack of sunlight it received.
I look over. Kyle was laughing; he was probably a little bit tipsy. He was happy though. He has money. He has love. He has a wife who could give him children.
Kyle had everything.
But what did I have?
I had nothing.
I had Adam, and money, and that was it. I was single, unmarried, unloved. Casey had just dumped me.
I had been trying for years. And years. And YEARS. All I wanted was love. Happiness.
And then I realized what I knew deep down all along...
Some stories don't end happily.
Some stories are a tragedy.
Maybe...
Maybe it was time to pick up the blades.
