I took a deep breath. The lovely scents of freesia and rose silenced the slightly frantic buzz in my head. Public speaking had never been my forte, but as maid of honour at my sister’s wedding, I had speech duty.
The general chatter around me quietened as I stood up and cleared my throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to take you away from your delicious desserts…”
I’d written and memorized my speech down to the last T. Every inflection, every pause, every interjected smile was carefully rehearsed so that I sounded happy and poised. A perfect maid of honour to a perfect bride. As I raised my champagne flute to toast the happy couple, I looked over at them. George couldn’t take his eyes off Ella, and she positively glowed with happiness. They were perfect for each other.
Sometimes, heartache becomes a part of you. Like a second skin, or an extra limb. You don’t always pay attention to it. You go about your life as usual. Yet it’s always there, and sometimes it demands attention. Of course his wedding day would be one of those days. I’d known it would be; it was one more reason that my speech had to be perfect.