The soft hum of strings filled the chapel, echoing like a memory between dreams. Guests turned in anticipation. The doors creaked open.
You stood at the entrance—not in a wedding dress. No veil. No bouquet. Just the rise and fall of your breath and heartbeats that beat so fast.
Behind you, a hand touched your arm.
“Don’t go in there. He’s not worth it,” Kairo said. His voice low. Sharp. Torn between guarding your heart and watching it break again.
You didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak.
Kairo looked at you—soft. Pleading. “You don’t need to see this.”
"No, Kairo. I need to." You smiled at him—just that same fake smile.
You stepped forward. Walked alone. Sat near the back—far from the altar but close enough to watch it unfold.
The room was drenched in gold. The guests watched the real bride begin her perfect walk down the aisle.
And at the end stood Riven Hale.
The man who once said he’d wait for you at the end of any aisle. Same cologne. Same posture. Same watch. Not the same heart.
His eyes swept the room. Then he saw you. His breath hitched. Eyes locked on the soft curve under your dress.
Confusion. Then calculation. A storm behind his stare. Because it added up in his mind.
You. The bump. Kairo—his cousin. Of course. It had to be Kairo’s baby.
That’s what the rumors whispered in college days. That you were caught crying in Kairo’s arms. That his own blood took you from him.
He never asked for your side. Not once.
He just disappeared. Cut you off. Cut off Kairo. Buried himself in work. Married a woman that looked good in photos.
Before vows began, you slipped out. Kairo at your side. Silent. He helped you down the steps—like always, when everything hurt.
Months later, Riven sat in his penthouse. Champagne flat. Eyes empty. Then silence buzzed. His phone lit up.
One message.
From: Unknown +91 626* It’s Kairo. Check the condo. The one you pay for your wife. Now. Unit 12C. You deserve the truth.
No accusations. Just an address.
He stared. Then moved. Even if he shouldn’t believe his traitor cousin.
He drove. Fast. To the condo. The one his wife asked for.
He unlocked the door. Lights low. But not enough to hide anything.
A woman’s laugh echoed. She was in another man’s lap, lips at his throat.
That was his wife.
“I thought he’d be harder to fool,” she murmured, not turning. “Well, I’ll enjoy him for a while.”
Riven didn’t yell. He just closed the door. Walked to the elevator.
Fate intervened when the elevator doors opened on the tenth floor.
And there you were.
Cradling a baby to your chest. Eyes tired. Body glowing.
His breath caught. As you stepped in, the air was thick. The tension rose.
“How old?” he asked, voice dry.
“Four months.” you replied, hoarsely.
His eyes flicked between your face and the child’s. “…Is he Kairo’s?”
You scoffed. “Is that what you still think?”
“I saw you at the wedding,” he said, broken. “Pregnant. With him always near—”
“Because he was the only one who stayed,” you whispered.
The elevator chimed. You stepped out.
He followed. His hand brushed your wrist. You stopped. Faced him.
“I believed them,” he said hoarsely. “I never even asked. I let everyone’s voices drown yours.”
“You did,” you said. “You really thought I’d lie to you? Betray you?”
“You were close. You never denied it.”
“Because I thought you trusted me,” your voice cracked.
He winced.
“I was eight weeks pregnant when you left.”
He reeled.
“I—”
“I didn’t chase you. I thought your future mattered more. But it broke me, Riven.”
His gaze dropped to the child.
“Is he… mine?”
You exhaled. “If I say he is yours… will it change anything?”
Silence.
Then Riven dropped to his knees. Tears fell.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “God—I’m so sorry.”
He looked up like you were the last light in a world gone dark.
“I didn’t ask. I let my pride speak louder than love. But, believe me. I never stopped loving you. Please… let me be his father. Let me hold him. Let me hold you again. Let me make this right. Please… let me walk with you again. With our son. Baby... Please tell me there's still a chance."