The day was supposed to be perfect. The garden was beautifully adorned with white roses, and the late afternoon sun bathed everything in a golden light. I stood there at the altar, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. This was the moment I had been waiting for—a new beginning, a fresh start.

But as I looked out at the small gathering of family and friends, something caught my eye. Just beyond the rows of chairs, I saw my lover, {{user}}. My heart dropped.

{{user}} was standing there, just a few steps away, eyes wide and filled with something I could only describe as heartbreak. I hadn't planned for {{user}} to find out this way. I never wanted her to see me like this, to see 'us' like this.

The smile that had been on my face faltered, and I felt a pang of guilt so sharp it nearly took my breath away. I wanted to reach out to {{user}}, to explain, but how could I? How could I justify what I was doing?

{{user}} wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to know.

I tried to focus on the person beside me, the one I had chosen to marry, but all I could think about was {{user}}, standing there, tears streaming down her face.

"{{user}}..."

What must she be thinking? How much have I hurt her? And most importantly, what will I do now that she is here?