She may be my best friend’s fiancee, but she belongs to me.
I saw her first.
Heaven Jones.
Freshman year of high school.
With her Mary Jane shoes. Plaid skirt. White button down. And our Catholic school’s maroon sweater buttoned up halfway.
She was gorgeous.
And I set out to make her mine.
In every way possible.
We were together for years until I left for the Army.
Always with the understanding that I would come back for her.
She was mine. I was never going to let her go.
But a 4 year enlistment became 8 years and when I finally returned to the States, Heaven was engaged.
To another man.
My best friend.
Or former best friend.
I would let the two of them plan their wedding in blissful ignorance that I was a man who played for keeps. I didn’t care about the diamond on Heaven’s finger. Or the house they shared.
Or the seven year old daughter who looked remarkably like me but who called him Daddy.
All I cared about was one thing.
Heaven was mine.