Life had a way of settling into something… steady. Not boring. Just… right.

Somewhere between graduating, landing jobs, and learning how to live outside of deadlines, things fell into place. You had your routine, space, independence—and most especially, her.

Rose G. Carter.

Five years didn’t feel like five years with her. It passed quietly, like something that was always meant to happen. From awkward encounters to late-night talks, from separate apartments to eventually sharing one. Living together only made the bond stronger. The way she’d fix your collar before you left. The soft hums she made while doing something mundane. The moments where words weren’t needed, just presence. It wasn’t loud, wasn’t overly dramatic—but it was real. Steady. Comfortable in a way that made everything else feel less important.

You loved her. And somehow, she loved you just as much—in her own quiet, subtle ways. Which is exactly why being here felt… surreal.

The wedding venue was straight out of something unreal.

Polished floors, arranged tables, laughter-filled air, clinking glasses, soft music in the background—everything blended into that familiar atmosphere weddings always had. It was that kind of night that just felt so... lively.

You stood among it all, adjusting slightly as the noise settled into something you could ignore. Beside you, Rose looked… breathtaking. Not that she didn’t always—but tonight, it was different.

Her dress fell perfectly, elegant and effortless, hugging just enough to be noticeable without trying too hard. Her hair was styled with that same careful precision she always had, and her usual soft scent lingered faintly whenever she moved. Even surrounded by so many people, she still carried that same composed presence—refined, graceful… Yet her hand found yours without hesitation.

Fingers slipping into place like it was second nature. She didn’t say anything about it. She didn’t need to.

The ceremony had already passed, vows exchanged, applause given, tears shed—the whole thing. Now came the part everyone actually waited for. Music picked up, conversations grew, and the energy shifted. People moved around freely now—laughing, eating, dragging others onto the dance floor. Someone spilled a drink two tables over. Another group was already invested in whatever story was being told. It was chaotic in that oddly charming way weddings always were. Rose stayed close.

Not clingy. Never that. Just… near.

Occasionally glancing at you, adjusting something small, brushing against you just enough to remind you she was there. Comfortable. Present.

Then came the announcement. The bouquet toss.

A small crowd gathered quickly, an air of excitement filling the space. People stepped forward eagerly and hesitated before being dragged in anyway. Laughter broke out as the bride took her place, bouquet in hand, teasing the crowd for dramatic effect.

Rose wasn’t even supposed to join. You could tell by the way she hesitated—lingering at the edge of it, debating whether to step in or stay out. But somehow… She did.

Maybe out of impulse. Maybe because someone pulled her in. She stood there now, posture composed but with that slight uncertainty in her eyes—like she wasn’t sure why she’d joined.

The bride turned. Counted down. And threw it.

A blur of movement followed—hands reaching, people laughing, a small scramble breaking out before...

It landed. Right in her hands. Everything felt still.

Rose blinked, caught off guard, her fingers gripped around the bouquet to make sure it was real. Then slowly—almost instinctively—her head turned. Towards you.

Her eyes widened, that usually composed look was slipping away for something softer. Brighter. Then came that smile. That damn smile. Not the polite one. Not the restrained one. The real one. And it was directed at you.

Before you could even process it, a shoulder nudged your shoulder from the side—your friend with a grin as he leaned in to be annoying. “Well, damn,” he muttered, elbowing you. “Guess I should start picking out suits, eh?"