She was right, of course. Irene felt hesitant to admit it, for whatever reason, and she nodded as she surveyed the other woman. “They did look quite happy.” She said, and again it felt like the words had to be pulled out of her mouth by some great force.

She said nothing after that, though wondered how Evangeline had felt at her own wedding. As for Irene, well it was clear the only experience with weddings she had weren’t the kind one looked over with fondness. Only bitterness.

It was with this bitterness set in her chest that she opened her bag to fish out another cigarette, only to completely fumble and drop her bag on the ground. Letting out an oath, she knelt down to pick up the contents of her bag. Scraps of paper, her cigarette tin, lighter, a few pencils, and pressed flowers from the ceremony.

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