The Bridesmaid

The girl stands silent in the shadows. Her dress is soft and pale against the dusk. She watches the bride, bright as dawn, moving forward with steady steps, a veil flowing like mist over her shoulders. The music swells, filling the air with the weight of promises unspoken. She feels the echo in her chest, a memory of dreams she cannot voice, Of paths imagined but untaken. The bride's joy is radiant, a beacon to all who gather close, while she stands apart, the witness, the keeper, the quiet guardian of this moment. The petals beneath her feet scatter, falling, fragile, into the earth. And she lets them go, as she must, always the watcher, never the one.