[ WP ] `` I do n't owe you a fair fight ''


 “ I don ’ t owe you a fair fight. ” 
 
 Invisible fingers seized Erika ’ s lips and pulled. 
 
 She smiled like her mother taught her, sharp and full of benign hatred. She had planned out her speech, put it on cards. She dressed for the part. 
 
 She was still beautiful. Not beautiful enough. 
 Her dress was up to her neck, muted silver. She didn ’ t want anyone to see her back, a single name, written in thorned cursive, ending in a rose. 
 
 The one he had before he had it removed. 
 
 Sitting at the farthest table from the Union table, 
 
 Erika knew she would have a long walk. The lights would splash on her red face. If her eyes were bright, it was because she was so fucking happy for the couple. 
 
 When it was time for her speech, she rose up on teetering heels. When she stood at the microphone, she looked the bride in the eyes. She tried to be happy. She tried to. 
 
 “ I heard John tell his closest friends, ‘ She means the world to me. She is beautiful. Everything she does completes me. I am in love with a goddess. I want to be with her for eternity. ’ I am happy he found someone he could mean that with. ” Erika paused. The room clapped. 
 
 The bride pressed her hands to her lips and beamed. Tim looked confused, for just a moment, before he nodded. He understood. He thought he understood. 
 
 “ The ceremony is beautiful. I could think of no better place to celebrate this festive occasion. ” 
 
 When Erika sat down, she was close to sobbing. 
 
 She just kept smiling until her insides shattered. 
 
 The woman sitting next to her, a third cousin, such a nosy, nosy woman, remarked on how beautiful her speech was. 
 
 “ He has always been so passionate about her, ” 
 Sarah said. “ It makes me sick sometimes. ” 
 
 “ I know. ” Erika ’ s shoulders trembled. “ I know. ” 
 
 “ You must have been close, ” Sarah said. “ They never talk about how they met. ” 
 
 “ While we were married. ” 

