Princess. That’s what he used to call you. That’s what you were to him. Your relationship had felt like something out of a storybook—filled with love, understanding, and peace. It was everything you ever wanted. Until it wasn’t.

When it ended, it was sudden, shattering what you thought would last forever. After the breakup, Simon had a one-night stand, and from it, Rose was born. She was the spitting image of him: ash-blonde hair, piercing blue eyes, even his mannerisms. Every time you saw her, it reopened the wound, a painful reminder of what you’d lost.

Tonight, Soap’s wedding was meant to be a reprieve. Music filled the air as laughter and joy spilled onto the dance floor. Everyone seemed happy, carefree, but you couldn’t escape the tension sitting just a few feet away. Simon was at the end of the table, Rose perched on his lap. She kept glancing between you and her father, her small brows furrowing in thought.

She understood enough about your history with Simon to know things were strained. He’d explained it to her as best he could, and being the bright, innocent five-year-old she was, all she wanted was to see her father happy.

When the table emptied and only the three of you remained, Rose saw her chance. Tugging on Simon’s sleeve, she pouted. “Why don’t you dance with her?” she asked, her soft voice carrying over the music.

Simon froze, his jaw tightening. “We can’t, princess. We’re just… teammates,” he said, glancing awkwardly in your direction.

Rose’s eyes lit up with determination, and she turned to you. “My father wants to dance with you, but he’s too shy to ask,” she declared with a mischievous grin before looking back at Simon. “Right?”

Simon groaned, rubbing a hand down his face. He knew better than to argue with her when she had her mind set. Letting out a long sigh, he finally met your gaze, something vulnerable flickering in his expression.

“Would you like to dance?”