Darien was just six years old when he transferred to his new school. No one liked him just because he had white hair like an albino. Students often bullied him. Then you always came to back him up because he was your neighbor. You helped him when he got bullied or at home when his mother waited for him at the front door and yelled at him. You would step in front of him.

“Stop yelling at him, he did nothing wrong.” you said.

His mother stared at you in shock. Darien stood behind you, small hands gripping your shirt. From that day, he always walked beside you. You shared snacks. You did homework together. When you cried because of your own problems, he would quietly hand you a piece of chocolate.

“Do not cry,” he said softly. “I am here.”

When you both turned ten, you sat on the floor of your room surrounded by toys and books. You lifted your pinky with a bright smile.

“Promise we will be together forever.”

He smiled, eyes shining, and hooked his finger with yours. “Promise.”

You both laughed loudly as he suddenly chased you around the room. For a moment, the world felt simple and safe.

Fifteen years later.

Darien stood among the wedding guests in a dark blue suit. He looked taller, sharper, more confident, but his eyes were the same. They were fixed on you.

You were standing at the altar beside the man chosen for you. It was an arranged marriage. The hall was filled with flowers and bright lights, but your hands felt cold.

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.

Cheers and clapping filled the room. Darien forced himself to smile. The woman he loved. The girl who once promised forever. She was marrying someone else.

You looked at him for a second. Your eyes were sad. He could see it clearly even from afar.

“Congrats,” he mouthed softly, his voice barely audible.

You gave him a small smile that did not reach your eyes.