Solo Honeymoon _top_ — Scarlett Jones

The luggage tag said Mrs. Scarlett Jones , but she used her thumb to smudge the ink until it just read Scarlett .

She cried into the Pacific Ocean. Saltwater on saltwater. It felt honest.

So she uninvited the fifty guests. She returned the ring. She kept the honeymoon. scarlett jones solo honeymoon

The Unwedding

On her last morning, Scarlett Jones woke before sunrise. She walked to the end of the wooden pier, coffee in hand, and watched the sky turn from bruise-purple to pearl-pink. A reef shark glided below. A pair of lovebirds squawked in a palm tree. None of it belonged to anyone but her. The luggage tag said Mrs

That was the hardest part: the empty spaces. The second flute of champagne the flight attendant kept eyeing. The second towel on the lounger. The echo of a laugh that never came.

She wrote him a letter she’ll never send. Saltwater on saltwater

“Almost,” she said. “But I chose me instead.”