I rip out the soft, sugary heart from within. You and I bought this icing-clad mountain at your onetime favorite bakery, after months of fighting for the right to celebrate our love, the love between two men, with one of their cakes.
I smear the chocolate frosting on your lips. A tiny flick of your tongue and you taste the cocoa-rich cream from my fingers. You look at me like there's nothing you'd rather do right now than lick me all over... If only we weren't in a ballroom full of guests.
And then you fall to the floor and you struggle to breathe and I scream and I scream and someone calls an ambulance and everything spins and I think you will die...
And then you pull through and I cry and I laugh and I kiss your face in the hospital bed instead of under the sheets in our honeymoon suite and you are so pale and so weak...
And then I learn it's all because the chocolate had traces of nuts.
The bakery owners say it was an accident. They say they didn't know about your allergy.
Of course they did. You used to go there all the time.
Someday, I will rip out their hard, bitter hearts from within.
writes research papers with a lot of math and waves dry-erase markers in front of confused college students. Her short fiction can be found in The Fiction Pool, Jellyfish Review, Ellipsis Zine, Occulum, Gone Lawn
and elsewhere. Come say 'hi' on Twitter @MauraYzmore