Liam had been your childhood friend—the boy who always made you laugh, who held your hand when you were scared.

“I hope we get married when we’re older,” he said once on your birthday, pinky outstretched like a promise.

“I would love that,” you smiled, hugging him tightly.

Years later

He stood at the altar in a black suit, nervous but smiling, waiting for his bride. As she walked down the aisle, his breath caught—she looked beautiful. When she reached him, he took her hand and held it tightly.

As the priest declared them husband and wife, he leaned in and kissed her gently.

Cheers erupted. Applause filled the air.

You smiled through the pain, clapping with the crowd, even as tears silently slipped down your cheeks.

That night, you lay in bed, scrolling through old photos of you and Liam. One by one, you deleted them—until you paused on your favorite.

It was a photo of the two of you facing each other, the golden sunset casting a soft glow behind you. You remembered what he whispered that day.

“I’m gonna marry you someday.”

The tears came harder this time, and no smile could hide them.