She didn’t move on.

Why should she?

Oh, she arranged her face in pleasant shapes,

Strung niceties on bubbles of champagne,

Lit her eyes with instasparkle.

She tickled high society with arias of giggles,

Concealing her bruised heart beneath a slither of sapphires,

Idly caressing the gems with a vermilion fingernail as she observed.

She mingled, regal,

Perfecting her alibi.

She smiled, teeth barred, as her former friend appeared in the doorway.

Her timing was perfect. She stepped forward.

No one would ever know.