Sweet Little Lies

Prologue

PROLOGUE

It’s often said that just before death, people experience flashes of their entire life—a burst of colorful memories ranging from childhood to first love to family.

But for me? All I can see is white.

Bouquets of fragrant lilies, their pure white petals intertwined with delicate pale roses and clusters of baby’s breath. White tablecloths that billow like clouds against a gleaming marble floor. A transparent, almost ethereal veil floating over a silky white gown.Borrowed pearls. Strappy white heels. And in the center of it all, a multitiered wedding cake adorned with sugary flour and lace, mocking me with its sickly sweet perfection as I gasp for my last breath.

It’s not fair! I want to scream, but my strength has deserted me, leaving the words to die silently on my lips. It’s unfair, lying here with my blood pooling around me, knowing that I’ll never witness the wedding that consumed my every waking moment.

Weddings are funny like that. It starts off with the seed of an idea. The two of you reciting your heartfelt vows in front of a few close friends and family. You picture a quaint ceremony with, maybe, fifty loved ones. But, before you know what’s happening, RSVPs have ballooned to two hundred guests. Aunt Beth shows up with her seven wayward children. And what about Amy, your second cousin on your dad’s side? Couldn’t she come and bring her husband and twins? Of course you say yes. Because how could you deprive anyone of joining in this joyful day, celebrating this pinnacle moment of your life?

Suddenly, the simple, heartfelt affair you envisioned morphs into an entirely different beast. A beast that, if you’re not careful, can completely consume your life. I let the wedding beast consume my life . Now, I see that was a mistake. But damn it, it’s too late. The deposits have been made, the DJ paid in full. And now I’m going to die and everyone will eat the cake I spent a thousand dollars on without me. They’ll be knocking back the fancy champagne I had shipped in from God-knows-where, all while a single question begins to dawn on them, spreading through the crowd like wildfire:

What happened to the bride?

She’s there too, in my vision. The woman whose name hung in the air between us, a silent reminder of everything I was not. It’s partially her face I see when I smell the coppery tang my own blood. When my ragged breaths come in excruciating gulps, each one more labored than the last.

In these final fading moments, I expect my life’s memories to unspool like an old film reel, a kaleidoscope of vibrant colors and sounds highlighting my journey’s most poignant scenes. But instead? All I can see is what never happened. The extravagant and grandiose event that was supposed to be the highlight of my life. Instead of a fulfilling and colorful existence… all I see is white.

Including the little white lie that brought on my death.