I had been the first person Richard had talked to when he was
about to propose to Bea. I had been the one who had told him to go for it. I
thought he was perfect for her. I thought they were perfect together.
He had looked so happy then. His eyes had lit up when I had
responded positively. He hugged me, and he thanked me, and he asked me to be
there when he did it.
“It would only be right,” he had said. “You’re like her
sister.”
Bea and Richard.
They had been the couple I had looked up to. They had been the
ones that had always been there at every family party, at every tragedy.
Tragedy…
Tragedy…
Oh god.
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