“When we grow up, we’re going to marry each other, okay?” you once said to Renz, your tiny pinky linking with his.

“Of course we will! I’ll buy you a big house and a nice car and everything!” he beamed, his voice full of innocent certainty.

That was childhood. Full of dreams and promises made under the sun.

But now, you’re both grown. And there he is, standing outside the church in a crisp suit, sweat trailing down his temple, nerves tightening his jaw.

He looks perfect. A heartbreakingly handsome groom.

But not yours.

He’s marrying your friend. And it feels like something inside you quietly shattered.

You walk up to him, forcing a smile. “Hey, you okay?”

He glances at you, his eyes soft. “Yeah… just nervous. Excited, too. I’m finally getting married.” Then he hesitates. “But… what if she changed her mind?” he murmurs, anxiety flickering in his gaze.