Sarah, her cheeks flushed, flitted between the kitchen and the dining room, her apron dusted with flour. Meanwhile, Tom, ever the perfectionist, meticulously tended to the potted plants, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Their happiness was infectious, filling the space with warmth that tugged at my heartstrings. For a moment, I allowed myself to revel in it, the kind of familial love I thought I’d lost forever after my parents passed away.
But the sweetness of the moment carried a bitter aftertaste. 'What a wonderful family,' I thought, my fingers tightening around the roll of tape. 'And what a pity.'
***
I snapped out of my thoughts and began attaching the decorations. Carefully, I stuck tape onto the corners of a colorful "Congratulations" banner and stepped onto a chair to affix it above the window. The task gave me something to focus on, something to ground me amidst the swirling emotions.
Just as I finished placing the first decoration, Sarah hurried out of the kitchen, her phone pressed to her ear. “Hello, Anne? You’re downstairs? Did you buy a lot for the wedding? Don’t let David carry too much—I’ll send your dad to help!”