The Bloody Wedding, End of a Seven-Year Love

At the wedding, Lyra held a jagged piece of a broken wine glass against her throat. A deep crimson liquid dripped down between her fingers, staining her white dress.

"Zander, do you choose her, or do you choose me?" she cried out, her voice trembling.

I reached up, ripped off my bridal veil, and tossed it onto the floor. Then, I glanced at my watch.

It was 8:17 PM. We were exactly three minutes past the scheduled time for the ring exchange.

Zander's tuxedo sleeve was already stained with her