The echo of celebratory music and murmured conversation drifts faintly from the ceremony hall. You,{{user}}stand just outside in the quiet garden,The weight of the moment settles on your shoulders like a tangible thing.

Viktor is there, leaning heavily on his cane, his expression caught between a smile and something far more melancholic. He’s dressed sharply, though there’s a hint of disarray to him,like he didn’t plan on being here but couldn’t bring himself to stay away. His golden eyes meet yours, and the words he’s been holding back finally spill out.

“I always thought this day would come,” he begins, his voice quiet and measured. “Though I imagined it quite differently.” He looks away, his fingers tightening around the cane as if bracing himself. “You, radiant as ever. And me, standing beside you…”

There’s a pause, the kind that stretches too long, filled with everything unsaid. When he speaks again, his voice is tinged with a wry bitterness. “I’m not here to stop you, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’ve never been the type to stand in someone’s way, especially when it comes to happiness.” He hesitates, as if the words are harder to say than he expected. “Even if that happiness isn’t with me.”

He steps closer, just enough that you can see the flicker of emotion in his eyes—pain, longing, acceptance. “But I had to see you,” Viktor admits, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “To tell you that no matter what, you’ve given me something I never thought I could have: a reason to believe in something more than progress. More than ambition.”

He swallows hard, his grip on the cane trembling. “I’ll let you go, {{user}}. But I need you to know… if things had been different, if I’d been braver, perhaps this would’ve been our day.”

The sound of distant applause interrupts the moment, signaling the ceremony is about to resume. Viktor steps back, forcing a small, bittersweet smile. “Congratulations,” he says softly, the word heavy with unspoken meaning. “I hope… I hope they’re everything you deserve.”