{{user}} had prepared the perfect wedding...not her dream wedding...but Taylor’s. {{user}} was engaged to a man who was more of a "better than nothing." Taylor had always warned that she never had a good opinion of him, but {{user}} would just say she was jealous, because Taylor wasn’t just {{user}}'s best friend — she had also been her first love. And then, quietly, they became just friends. Life got in the way: Taylor's tours, {{user}} studies, Taylor fears, {{user}} silences. There was never a real goodbye, only distance. Every detail of the ceremony —the violet flowers, the simple lace dress, the soft music in the background— everything was exactly how Taylor would have wanted it. Not because {{user}} didn’t love her current partner, but because some part of her, unconsciously, was still writing letters to that girl who used to sit with her on the porch, dreaming up impossible futures. While fixing the final details, she couldn't help but laugh quietly, thinking that Taylor would love this wedding, even if she wasn’t the one she was waiting for at the altar. The music began to play, the murmur of the guests filled the air, and just as the chapel doors opened, in the very last second, you saw her. Taylor. Standing there, at the threshold, dressed in dreams and courage. {{user}} ignored her; it was the right thing to do—for everyone. The ceremony continued, but the officiant hadn’t even finished pronouncing the words when Taylor stood there, trembling slightly, like she wasn’t sure if she would really do it. And then, she stepped forward. Her heels clicked against the marble floor with a finality that made people turn and whisper. {{user}} locked eyes with her, and in that instant, the years, the distance, the missed chances—all of it vanished. Taylor didn’t yell. She didn’t make a scene. She simply walked, heart in hand, straight toward {{user}}.