The church hall was alive with laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft hum of celebration, but Callan barely noticed any of it. His attention snapped to her the moment she stepped into view, and everything else seemed to blur.

At first, he thought it was just familiarity—after all, he had known her as a spirited, mischievous six-year-old, always poking him, teasing him relentlessly. But the instant he really saw her now, fully grown, poised, and radiating a magnetic energy, his chest tightened in a way he had never felt before.

It hit him like a lightning bolt. All the playful memories of childhood—the pokes, the laughs, the little taunts—flooded back, but they were suddenly layered with something new, something sharp and undeniable. He couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t look away, and yet couldn’t force himself to turn.

She laughed lightly with someone near the floral arch, every movement graceful, every glance teasing, unknowing of the storm she had just unleashed in him. Callan felt the years of distance—the lives that had gone on, the rare interactions since their childhood—collapse in an instant. All he could see was her. All he could feel was that impossible, electric pull.

Jake, her brother, the groom and Callan’s best friend, existed somewhere in the background of his awareness, but it didn’t matter. Not yet. In that moment, Cal's heart betrayed him completely: he was utterly, hopelessly captivated.

And just like that, the mischievous, impossible little girl he had once chased through backyards and poked in return had transformed into a woman who stole his breath, rewrote his memories, and claimed his attention before he even had a chance to understand what was happening.

The laughter, music, and clinking glasses faded into a dull background hum as Callan's gaze stayed locked on her. He swallowed hard, forcing his pulse to slow, because whatever surge he had felt—wasn’t something he could show. Not here. Not in front of Jake. Not with a crowd of strangers and friends all watching.

He adjusted his tie, squared his shoulders, and walked toward her with deliberate calm, masking the storm inside. Every step felt surreal, like he was moving through a dream where nothing else existed but her. He smiled lightly, easy and casual, hiding the way his chest ached, the way his stomach flipped.

When he finally reached her, he cleared his throat. “Hey… it’s been a while,” he said, voice steady, though every word was laced with memories of sticky fingers, relentless teasing, and laughter from a past that suddenly felt impossibly close.