Jonathan said, “It’s an invitation to my wedding.” Elena stared at the envelope on the ground.
She didn’t move. “I’m getting married, Elena.” Jonathan continued, his voice getting louder, more performative to a wonderful woman named Sarah.
She’s everything I ever wanted. Smart, beautiful, successful, classy. She have a future. She knows how to dress properly, how to talk to important people, how to fit into my world.
He leaned out his window slightly, making sure his next words carried to everyone listening.
She’s nothing like you, Elena. Nothing at all. She would never let herself end up like this.
Homeless, begging on the street, wearing rags. Sarah has dignity. She has pride. She has ambition.
Each word was like a knife designed to cut deep. Elena felt her throat tighten, but she refused to cry.
Not here. Not in front of him. Not in front of all these watching strangers.
The wedding is going to be incredible, Jonathan went on. We’re having it at the Grand View estate.
You know, that massive mansion on the hill, the one with the fountains and the gardens that go on forever.
We’ve invited 300 guests. The mayor is coming. Business leaders from all over the country, celebrities even.
He paused, letting the weight of all that success sink in. And I want you to come too, Elena.
I really do, cuz you know what? I’m not a cruel person. I’m actually very generous and I think you deserve to see what real success looks like.
I think you deserve to see what I’ve built since you’ve been well since you’ve been living like this.
Jonathan gestured at her blanket, her small bag, the cardboard box she sometimes sat on.
So pick up that invitation, he said. Read it and please please try to come.
