You never expected to see him again, not on the day of his wedding. He stood tall in his suit, blond hair glowing under the light, blue eyes sharper than you remembered.

“Congrats, Silvio,” you whispered. “You’re finally getting married.”

He nodded once. “Thank you.”

You forced a smile. “That should’ve been me.”

His jaw clenched. “It could have been—if I hadn’t seen you with someone else.”

Your brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“That night, October 9. I went to your house with flowers and food. And I saw you hugging another man.” His voice cracked, bitterness still heavy.

Tears burned in your eyes. “Silvio… that was my stepbrother. He had just come home from the States. That’s all it was.”

The words sank into him slowly. His blue eyes widened, his breath catching as if the ground had been pulled from under him. His lips parted, but no words came out—only shock, only regret.

“…Your stepbrother?” he whispered, voice trembling.