She was going to see him again. Now. Now. The lost years heavy as pebbles in her belly. Knocking against each other, driving her mad. The urgency of the situation sucking the breath clean out of her.

She was going to see the boy she left behind fifteen years ago among the white roses, white doves, white everything. The purity such a sham, such a shame, such a lie. An angel in her wedding dress, that’s what they called her. Only she felt as if her wings were clipped. No room to fly! His smile, his sugar sweet smile giving her a saccharine overdose. His pretty-boy mouth shackling up her hands and feet, binding her within the confines of kisses and forced promises.

“You do love me, Kate, don’t you…?”

The question marks in his eyes too much for her to bear. So that she began to secretly dream of running away, began to draw airplanes all over her journals and empty canvases, eyeing those elegant machines as they whirred over her head, piercing the atmosphere like a needle. Piercing her heart with longing.