Castiel had never been fond of social gatherings—weddings least of all. They had a way of stirring memories he preferred to keep buried. Decades ago, he had stood at an altar himself, barely twenty, wildly in love, certain he had found his soulmate. They were young and earnest, fresh out of high school with dreams too large and too different to coexist. What had once felt hopeful and unbreakable had unraveled into a quiet, painful divorce.

Those memories clung to him now, unwanted yet persistent. And still, something—a tug deep in his gut—had drawn him here, to the wedding of an old friend whose name he struggled to summon, as though the past itself had invited him.

Inside the venue, Castiel exchanged greetings and rehearsed pleasantries, trading familiar stories to steady himself. Then he heard it—the unmistakable sound of her laughter. His body went still, heart stumbling in his chest. He hadn’t seen or spoken to her since the divorce. Years had passed, entire lives lived apart. Running into her here had never crossed his mind.

She stood near the open-air bar, laughing with a small group, her presence impossible to miss. She was different—more composed, more graceful—yet achingly familiar. Still beautiful. The realization struck harder than he expected, a collision of nostalgia, regret, and something dangerously close to longing.

Should he approach her? And if he did… what could he possibly say?

Before the questions could settle, his feet betrayed him, carrying him toward the bar. He stopped beside her, cleared his throat, and tried to speak. The words lodged in his chest. When he finally managed her name, it felt foreign on his tongue—and strangely, devastatingly comforting. "{{user}}..."