{{user}} looked up at him, vision blurred with tears. malachi stood just outside the chapel doors, the echo of laughter and clinking glasses spilling out behind him. his mother had been married more times than either of them cared to count. and yet, here she was again.. {{user}} stood there, radiant in a tight, short blue dress, a thick white headband framing her blown-out hair. she looked like a dream. he looked like he’d just woken from one.

his tuxedo clung awkwardly to his frame, but his eyes stayed fixed on her, wide and searching, as if he were trying to decide whether she was real.

“i love you,” he said, voice cracking as he stepped forward. a tear slid down his cheek.

she stepped back. her breath hitched. she shook her head slowly, eyes never leaving his. “what’s my middle name?”

silence.

his brows drew together. his bottom lip trembled. he opened his mouth, but no sound came.

she waited. then, with a quiet finality, “i don't think you don’t know me like you think you do.”