I STOLE MY BEST FRIEND’S ENGAGEMENT RING ON HER WEDDING DAY AND SOLD IT TO A STRANGER
As I stood at the altar, I felt my fingers closing around the ring on Emily’s hand. “You’re a monster,” she whispered, her eyes wide with shock and betrayal. I tried to smile, to play it off, but my face felt like it was on fire. The scent of the white roses in Emily’s bouquet filled my nostrils, a stark contrast to the darkness I was harboring inside. The sound of the waves crashing outside the church seemed to grow louder, a cacophony that drowned out the murmurs of the guests.
I thought of the cash I had received from the stranger, the feel of the crumpled bills in my pocket a tangible reminder of my deceit. The rough texture of the money was a stark contrast to the smooth, cool surface of the ring as it lay in my palm. As I turned to make my escape, Emily’s voice stopped me cold: “You’ll pay for this.” My heart was racing, my mind reeling with the consequences of my actions.
Now I’m on the run, with the police and Emily’s fiancé hot on my heels.
As I glance over my shoulder, I see a figure emerging from the shadows.
👇 Full story continued in the comments…As I glance over my shoulder, I see a figure emerging from the shadows – it’s Mark, Emily’s now husband, his face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. His jaw is clenched, and the anger in his eyes is more terrifying than any police siren. Panic grips me, cold and sharp. There’s no time to think, only to run. I break into a sprint, the damp, cool night air hitting my face as I pound the pavement. Every step feels heavy, weighed down by guilt and the crumpled bills still burning a hole in my pocket.
I dart down a narrow alleyway, hoping to lose him, the echoes of my own frantic footsteps bouncing off the brick walls. I can hear his heavier, determined steps close behind me, a constant, menacing rhythm. My lungs burn, my legs ache, but the fear of what happens when he catches me pushes me forward. He shouts my name, a guttural roar that sends shivers down my spine. He sounds less like the gentle, kind Mark I knew, and more like a vengeful stranger.
I reach a dead end – a tall, insurmountable fence blocking the alley. My heart sinks into my stomach. I turn around, trapped, cornered. Mark stands a few feet away, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly. The raw pain on his face is almost unbearable. “Why?” he rasps, his voice hoarse with emotion. “How could you do this to her? To us?”
I open my mouth to speak, to offer some pathetic excuse, but no words come out. What could I possibly say? That I was desperate? That I wasn’t thinking? That doesn’t even scratch the surface of the monstrous act I committed. The silence stretches between us, thick with accusation and despair. Then, faintly at first, I hear it – the wail of approaching sirens, growing louder with every second. Mark hears it too. His eyes flick towards the sound, then back to me. The rage hasn’t left him, but a grim certainty settles over his features. He doesn’t need to hold me; the authorities are here.
As the red and blue lights begin to paint the alley walls, pulsating and surreal, Mark just stands there, watching me, the embodiment of everything I’ve destroyed. I close my eyes, the weight of my actions finally crushing me. The running is over.