Epilogue...

We were lying on a blanket beneath the stars—him and I, and a crowd of people who faded into the background the moment he looked at me. That night felt like a dream I didn’t want to wake up from. Everything smelled like blooming roses and honeysuckle. There was soft music, faint laughter, and the occasional sound of glasses clinking. But all I could hear was my heartbeat.

He looked at me like I was the only person that existed. His dark hair was messily charming, his jaw defined, his lips curled in a way that made my skin feel like fire. I remember the way his eyes searched my face, like they were memorizing every single part of me.

I was wearing white. My hair had been let loose, long and wavy, falling over my shoulders like it always did when I didn’t care to tame it. I didn’t feel particularly beautiful—just exposed. Like he could see through everything. And he loved what he saw.

He reached for my hand and I let him take it. The moment our fingers laced together, it felt like home. I felt wanted. I felt chosen.

“I promise to love you forever,” he said, not as a grand gesture, but like he couldn’t imagine anything else.

Then came the box. A small one, nothing flashy. Inside was a moon-shaped necklace, delicate and cool to the touch. I didn’t say anything at first. My throat closed up.

“It’s beautiful,” I finally managed.

“No,” he whispered, brushing his lips just behind my ear, “you are.”

And in that moment, I believed him.

...

Now\...

The mirror didn’t lie.

I looked like every other bridesmaid—done up, color-coded, smiling through panic. My lavender dress hugged my body like it was trying too hard. My hair was pinned back with such precision, it could’ve drawn blood if I moved too fast. I looked like I belonged in this room, but everything inside me screamed otherwise.

Anissa—Anni to only I—stood behind me, fixing the final details of my hair. Her hands trembled slightly. It was nerves. It was excitement. It was her wedding day, after all.

"You look perfect, Dahlia," she said with that soft, elder-sister tone she always used when she wanted to calm me. She stepped back and admired me like she had built me from scratch. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look this pretty."

I smiled, tightly. "Thanks, Ani."

I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t even whole.

The room smelled like flowers and makeup and stress. Rachel—the other maid of honor—was bustling around, barking orders at the other girls. Hair spray, lipstick, bouquet adjustments. No one noticed me standing still in the middle of it all, trying not to collapse from the inside out.

Ani turned back to the mirror, adjusting her veil. She looked radiant—glowing, actually. Her long blonde hair was curled to perfection, makeup soft but flawless. She was the image of happiness.

And I hated that I loved her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, peeking at me through the mirror.

I nodded too quickly. "I’m fine. Just overwhelmed."

She smiled gently. "Weddings do that to people. I keep thinking I’ll trip halfway down the aisle."

I laughed, because it was easier than crying. "You’ll glide like royalty. Clyde won’t take his eyes off you."

Clyde.

His name felt like acid in my throat. I hadn’t said it out loud in weeks. Not since I found out. Not since the invite.

He was marrying my sister.

Not just any kind of sister—my older sister. My rock. My protector. The girl who used to braid my hair and punch boys who picked on me. One of the only people who made me feel like I had a family.The same girl who had no idea that the man waiting for her at the altar was once mine.

Still mine, in a way I couldn’t even admit aloud.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Ani said, stepping forward and pulling me into a hug. "It wouldn’t feel right without you."

Her touch was warm. Familiar. And for a brief second, I considered telling her everything.

That I had once kissed him beneath a starlit sky.

That he once promised forever to me.

That I never let go.

But instead I said, "I’ll always be here for you."

Because I’m a coward. Or maybe because I love her too much.

The door burst open, and someone called, "Ten minutes!"

Ani squealed like a teenager and turned back to the mirror, her nerves peaking again. I watched her from behind, bouquet in my hands like a weapon I didn’t know how to use.

"You ready?" Rachel asked me as she passed by.

I looked her in the eyes. "Not even a little."

She smiled softly and disappeared down the hallway.

And there I stood, in a lavender dress stitched with lies, waiting to walk beside the woman I loved, toward the man who broke me. I felt so terrible, was it because my only family was getting married and finally leaving or because she was marrying the man that was once...the love of my life.