Burdens of Guilt

The soft hum of chatter filled the large event hall of Elite Touch Events, where Amelia Reed sat at a long, white-draped table surrounded by samples of wedding decor. Silk flowers in various pastel shades lay sprawled in front of her, alongside glossy catalogs of centerpiece designs and seating arrangements.

But her mind wasn't on wedding decor.

She stared blankly at a set of sample invitations, her fingers idly tracing the embossed floral patterns. No matter how hard she tried, her thoughts kept circling back to the coffee shop.

Claire.

Ethan.

The way they had looked at each other. The weight in Claire's eyes as she glanced at Ethan's wedding ring. The silent heaviness in Ethan's expression afterward.

Amelia squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose. Why do I feel like I'm in the middle of all this?

Her chest tightened with guilt. If it weren't for her, maybe Claire and Ethan would have ended up together. Maybe they wouldn't be strangers now, pretending to be fine while barely holding it together.

A sharp ring pulled her from her thoughts. Her phone vibrated on the table, the name "Hannah Cole" flashing on the screen. Amelia sighed before answering.

"Hey, Hannah," she said, her voice quieter than usual.

"Hey, Amelia," Hannah's cheerful voice chimed in. But after a pause, her tone shifted to concern. "You sound off. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Amelia replied quickly, forcing a small smile as though Hannah could see it. "Just busy with work."

"Liar," Hannah shot back immediately. "I know you too well. Something's up."

Amelia didn't respond. Her silence spoke louder than words.

"Okay, that's it," Hannah said firmly. "I'm coming over."

"What? No, you don't have to—"

"Too late," Hannah cut in. "I'll be there in 15 minutes. Don't even think about leaving."

Amelia sighed, placing the phone down and rubbing her temples. Stubborn as ever, she thought, but part of her was grateful.

True to her word, 15 minutes later, Hannah strode into the event hall, her eyes scanning the room until she spotted Amelia sitting at the design table. She wore a casual denim jacket over a bright yellow blouse, bringing an air of warmth and brightness to the room.

"Alright, spill it," Hannah said, pulling out a chair and sitting directly across from Amelia.

"Hannah, I'm fine. Really."

"No, you're not," Hannah countered, leaning forward with a raised eyebrow. "I can see it on your face. You've been staring at those wedding invitations like you're solving a riddle. Come on, what's going on?"

Amelia hesitated, her fingers playing with the edge of the invitation. Her eyes flickered toward Hannah, then away.

"Amelia," Hannah said, her voice softening. "It's me. Talk to me."

For a moment, Amelia stayed quiet. But Hannah's patience and persistence had always been her greatest strength.

"I saw Claire," Amelia admitted at last, her voice barely above a whisper. She glanced up at Hannah to gauge her reaction.

Hannah frowned. "Claire? As in Claire Bennett?"

"Yeah," Amelia said, nodding. "At the coffee shop. Ethan was there too."

Hannah leaned back, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowed with curiosity. "And?"

Amelia swallowed hard. "They saw each other. They... they didn't say much, but I could see it, Hannah. The way they looked at each other." She sighed deeply, burying her face in her hands. "I feel like it's my fault."

"Your fault?" Hannah leaned forward, puzzled. "How is it your fault?"

"Because I'm the reason Ethan didn't end up with her," Amelia said, lifting her head to look at Hannah. Her eyes glistened with frustration and guilt. "If I wasn't in the picture, maybe they'd still be together. Maybe they'd be happy."

Hannah blinked in surprise, then let out a short laugh.

Amelia's eyes widened. "Why are you laughing?"

"Because you're being ridiculous," Hannah said firmly, leaning forward to place a hand on Amelia's arm. "Listen to me, Amelia. You didn't force Ethan to marry you. You didn't kidnap him and drag him to the altar."

"But I agreed to it," Amelia muttered, looking away. "I agreed to this marriage, knowing how he felt about her."

"Yeah, and he agreed too," Hannah reminded her, giving her arm a gentle squeeze. "He made a choice, just like you did. You're not a villain in this story, Amelia."

Amelia shook her head, still unconvinced. "You didn't see them, Hannah. The way they looked at each other…"

"Doesn't matter," Hannah said, her tone firm. "Whatever Ethan feels for Claire is his business. If he's unhappy, that's on him, not you. You're not responsible for his choices."

Amelia bit her bottom lip, her eyes lowering to the table. "It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is," Hannah said, leaning forward until she was inches from Amelia's face. "You're carrying guilt that doesn't belong to you, Amelia. Ethan made his bed. Claire moved on. And you—" She tapped Amelia lightly on the forehead. "You're here, building something for yourself. If they have unresolved feelings, that's between them. Stop making it your burden."

Silence hung in the air between them. For a moment, the only sound was the distant rustle of papers from Amelia's design team at the far end of the hall.

"You make it sound so easy," Amelia muttered, wiping her hands on her lap.

"Because it is," Hannah replied. She leaned back with a knowing smile. "You just need to accept it."

Amelia stared at her friend for a moment, a small smile tugging at her lips. Hannah always knows what to say.

"Thanks," Amelia said softly, nodding.

"Anytime," Hannah said, flashing a grin. She glanced down at the table, her eyes landing on one of the sample wedding invitations. "So, this is the wedding you're working on?"

"Yeah," Amelia said, her tone more relaxed now. "The bride wants a floral theme, but she's being super picky about the color scheme."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Of course she is. Every bride is picky. They're all chasing perfection that doesn't exist."

Amelia laughed, a light, genuine sound that felt good after the weight of her earlier thoughts. She picked up one of the sample invitations and held it up for Hannah to see. "You think this one's good enough for a 'chasing perfection' bride?"

Hannah leaned forward, examining the design closely. "Hmm, not bad. But if it were me, I'd go with something bolder. Something with gold foil or embossing."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same," Amelia said, setting the sample down. Her heart felt lighter now. She still had questions about Ethan and Claire, but for the first time in a while, she didn't feel like she had to have all the answers.

Not today, at least.