CLAIRE
I’d never liked Andrew.
He was sharp-dressed and sharp-tongued, always so certain the world owed him something. Entitled. Selfish. The kind of man who mistook charm for character.
But Sofie loved him. And that was the only thing that ever mattered to me.
So I smiled when she talked about him. I helped her plan this wedding. I told myself he’d grow into the love she gave him.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
The satin of my rose-colored dress whispered with every step as I rushed through the church corridor.
Cool air swept through the hallway and slid along the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my arms tighter around myself, but it didn’t help.
The cold wasn’t what unsettled me.
Please let him just be running late.
Sofie’s nervous energy still clung to me like static. I tried to shake it, but it settled in deeper with every step.
She’d kept smoothing the skirt of her dress, like it could hide how hard her hands were shaking. Still, her eyes sparkled. Hopeful. Certain. As if nothing could go wrong.
The groom’s suite was empty.
My breath caught.
Once.
Then again, harder.
No. No. No. Where is he?
Outside the stained-glass windows, dark clouds pressed low against the city. Rain tapped steadily against the glass, soft but relentless.
Ten minutes left.
Then I saw Mark.
He stood near the church entrance, phone pressed tight to his ear. His knuckles had gone white. His shoulders were hunched like he was absorbing a blow that hadn’t fully landed.
I moved toward him.
Two steps.
That was all it took before I heard Andrew’s voice.
“I told you—I can’t do it!”
His voice burst through the speaker, too loud, too raw. The hallway spun. I stopped mid-step.
Mark was angled away, the phone still pressed to his ear, like he could somehow block the words from reaching me.
But they already had.
“You should’ve told her,” he snapped. “You should’ve said you don’t love her. That there’s someone else.”
Everything narrowed. The corridor. The church. My breath.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. My legs felt numb. Cold bloomed in my chest.
“You can’t do this now,” Mark said. His voice broke, louder this time. “She’s waiting for you.”
“I’m not going out there, Mark! I can’t face her!” Andrew’s voice cracked. “You tell her.”
Then the call ended.
Silence closed in around us, thick and final.
Mark didn’t move. He stared at the phone like it still had something left to say.
Then slowly, he lowered it to his side. When he turned to me, I saw the truth written across every part of his face.
And I knew.
I knew before he said a word. I knew by the way his expression unraveled, by the way his mouth opened but no sound came.
A sob ripped from my throat. My hand shot up to cover it, but it was no use. The sound broke free anyway, sharp and uncontrollable.
“No. Please no.” I stumbled toward him. “Tell me that’s not what I think it is. Tell me this isn’t happening. How am I supposed to tell Sofie?”
He caught me as I collapsed into him.
My body folded against his, trembling. I clung to his jacket, my fists gripping the fabric like it might hold me up. My sobs came hard and fast. I couldn’t stop them. Couldn’t breathe around them.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “This is... it’s cruel. She’s going to need you, especially now. I’ll handle the guests. You go to her.”
I nodded through the tears.
“You’re too good a friend for someone like him.”
He didn’t respond. Just held me closer.
His arms around me were the only thing keeping the ground beneath me.
Mark pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine.
"Claire, are you sure you can do this?"
I nodded, but my throat felt tight.
"I have to."
There was a pause, thick and breathless.
"She loves you, you know," he said quietly. "She’ll listen to you, even when it hurts."
That only made it worse.
The idea that Sofie trusted me enough to be the one who brought her heartache, that she’d hear the truth first in my voice, cracked something deeper.
“I don’t want to be the person who rips her world apart.”
Mark’s brow furrowed. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair off my cheek in a gesture so gentle it nearly undid me all over again.
“You’re not. Andrew did that. You’re just the one brave enough to stand in the wreckage with her.”
A fresh wave of tears threatened, but I forced myself to hold the line.
“I keep thinking of her as a little girl,” I whispered. “With those big eyes and all that hope. She’s always believed in forever. In love that lasts.”
Mark nodded, his expression tight.
“She deserves forever.”
I pulled in a shaky breath.
“She built a future with him, every detail and every dream carefully imagined. And now I have to tell her none of it’s real.”
“You’re not taking away her future,” he said. “You’re saving her from a man who never planned to be in it.”
I pressed my forehead briefly against his chest, drawing strength from his calm.
Then I stepped back.
The weight of the moment settled over me again.
I squared my shoulders.
“She’s waiting.”
Mark gave a tight nod and squeezed my shoulder.
He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.
The silence between us said it all.
Each step back down the outdoor corridor dragged like cement.
My legs felt heavy. My lungs, hollow.
The sky had turned the color of bruised lavender. Thunder rolled in the distance, low and threatening, as if the storm itself grieved with us.
Be strong for Sofie.
I passed the floral arrangements. The polished pews.
The cello’s sorrowful hum curled with the rain’s quiet drumming. A duet of grief.
And I walked straight into it, toward the girl who still believed today was the start of forever.
All of it still pretending a wedding was about to happen.
But the truth was already unraveling.
The groom hadn’t just gotten cold feet.
He hadn’t even shown up.
He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t ask for time. He didn’t even have the decency to end things himself.
He handed his silence over like a knife and left me to do the cutting.
And the bride, the woman who would’ve walked through fire for him, had no idea the love she believed in had already betrayed her.
How do you tell someone their future just vanished?
I wanted to lie. I wanted to say everything was fine, that Andrew was waiting, that this was just one last bridal delay.
But the words would never come, because they held no truth.
Her entire life was about to fall apart.
I paused outside the bridal suite.
My fingers hovered over the doorknob.
I took a breath. Then another.
You can’t fall apart. Not now.
I wiped away my tears.
And I opened the door.
SOFIEI walked slowly through the lobby, the picnic basket balanced in one hand, the scarf box tucked in the other. The silk inside felt delicate. A small thing, really, but it mattered.Everything around me gleamed. The marble floors caught the light in quiet pools. Crystal pendants overhead scattered gold flecks across the walls. Even the air felt expensive. Orange blossom and polished wood.One of the doormen opened the door for an older couple near the entrance, his nod to me casual, familiar. Not stiff. Just natural. Like I belonged here.I paused outside the management office. My fingers brushed the satin bow on the box. This wasn’t about obligation. It was about meaning something. About showing up when it would’ve been easy not to.Inside, the room was just as immaculate as I remembered. Every surface pristine. Every item perfectly in place.Mrs. Williams looked up from her desk, surprise flickering in her eyes.“Mrs. Reed,” she greeted, her tone formal. “How may I help you tod
ALEXUnder the shade of a towering oak in Central Park, we spread out the blanket and opened the basket. Chef Renard’s work was simple but elegant: wine, grapes, cheeses, and artisan breads. She fed me bites between sips of wine, her laughter ringing clearer than the birdsong around us.There was something about seeing her like this, sunlight in her hair, so present and unguarded, that made me want to memorize every second.I watched the way her fingers moved, lazy and graceful as she reached for a piece of bread, then offered me a bite.God, how did this become my life?For so long, everything I touched had a purpose. A price tag. A strategy. But her? She was unscripted. A surprise I hadn’t seen coming.There was no angle here. No performance. Just the warmth of her hand brushing mine, the curve of her smile, and the way she tipped her head back when she laughed like it was the first time she ever had.I didn’t just want to remember this moment. I wanted to live in it.Keep it.Bott
SOFIESunday morning light streamed through the expansive windows, bathing the room in a soft, golden haze. Warmth stretched across the sheets and kissed my bare skin. I blinked slowly, unwilling to let go of the quiet magic.He lay beside me, deep in sleep, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm. His face, usually sharp with purpose, was soft now. Relaxed. Unmasked. A rare, private version of him I’d never seen before.A smile curled at my lips. He looks so young when he’s like this. I wanted to stay right there, soaking in the way his lashes brushed his cheeks, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. But I didn’t want to wake him.Carefully, I slipped from under the duvet, my feet brushing the cool floor as I tiptoed across the room. I bent to pick up a pillow that had fallen during the night, my thoughts still tangled in the way he had touched me, seen me like no one ever had.Then the sharp buzz of his phone broke the silence, rattling against the nightstan
SOFIEMoonlight spilled through the windows, bathing us in a soft, silvery glow. The entire world seemed to hold its breath, leaving just the two of us here, suspended in this moment.He kissed me deeply, his mouth moving with mine in a rhythm that felt like a language only we understood. When he pulled back, his gaze didn’t waver. His eyes stayed locked on me, dark with desire. My lips throbbed from his kisses, tingling, swollen, wet. The way he looked at them, as if he couldn’t get enough, sent heat racing through me.“I’ve never seen anyone look so beautiful,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. My heart stuttered.Warmth surged through me, breath catching in my throat. His lips traced down my neck, soft kisses coaxing a sigh from my lips. My body arched to meet him, unable to stay still beneath the touch of his mouth.My eyes drifted closed, lips parting as a soft sound slipped out, too honest to hide. He cupped my breasts, his hands grazing my hardened nipples,
SOFIEThe gala felt like a dream. Flashing cameras, endless laughter, elegant gowns. But when we stepped into the quiet hush of our foyer, it was his voice that lingered.“Sofie,” he said, his voice velvet-rich, threaded with pride. “You won everyone’s hearts tonight.”My feet throbbed with every step, but I smiled through it. I kicked off my heels with a groan, the sound of them clattering across the floor too sharp in the silence. Relief washed over me as I collapsed onto the bed, sinking into the mattress with a sigh.“Feeling better now?” he asked, his gaze dipping to my legs with quiet amusement.“Mmm.” I stretched my arms above my head, letting the ache melt away. “You have no idea.”His gaze drifted lower, and I caught it. The flicker of heat behind his smile sent my pulse skittering. I adjusted, propping myself up on my elbows, one knee bending just enough to reveal the curve of my thigh through the slit of my gown. Awareness sparked beneath my skin, sharp as static.“Alex?”
SOFIEThe gala pulsated around us, full of clinking glasses and easy laughter. He turned to me with that gentle smile I loved."Can I get you something to drink?" he asked."Sure, a glass of white wine, please," I said, watching him head toward the bar.My heart tugged as he disappeared into the crowd.I scanned the room, trying to steady my breath. Light spilled from the chandeliers in soft gold waves. Music fluttered between pockets of laughter, a melody too polished to feel real.But underneath it, something pulled at me. A shift. Like a cold breeze through a room that should’ve been sealed.I barely had time to exhale before I felt it— that prickle along my skin.I turned.And there he was.Andrew.He stalked toward me with something tight and angry in his expression. My body tensed before I could think. Not here. Not now.Without warning, he grabbed my arm. Not hard, but firm enough to make my pulse spike. He pulled me aside, cutting us off from the crowd. The music dulled under