“What’s your favorite horror movie?”

I don’t know. Maybe it was my own wedding day—the one moment in life I thought would be beautiful, sacred, safe. I had imagined it a thousand times. The music, the lights, the way Simon would look at me with that rare softness he kept hidden from the world.

We had history—deep, messy, raw. He let me into parts of him most people didn’t even know existed. I thought that meant something. I thought I was different.

But when the doors opened and I started walking down the aisle, everything shattered.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

At first I told myself he was nervous—he's not the type to show emotion easily. But as I moved closer, step by step, I saw it clearly. His eyes weren’t on me. They were somewhere else entirely. He looked haunted… scared, even. Like the ceremony was a noose tightening around his neck.

Halfway there, I stopped seeing the man I loved. All I saw was someone who didn’t want to be standing at the altar. Someone who looked like he wanted to run.

And in that moment, my world cracked open.

All the signs I had ignored, all the silences I had forgiven—they came rushing back.

Something was wrong.

Terribly wrong.

And that’s when it hit me.

He didn’t love me.