Mattheo stood at the altar, the sharp lines of his black suit a stark contrast against the soft, shimmering ivory of the gown you wore. His gaze was fixed, not entirely on you, but somewhere in the distance, flickering toward the crowd, and every few moments, it fell on him. Theodore. His best friend. His past.

You had known for a long time. Their bond had always been something unspoken. But you knew. You knew what their eyes said when they met. You knew the way their smiles lingered, how their hands brushed a little too often, how their laughter echoed with a tenderness that you could never quite touch.

The vows were about to begin, and you could see his jaw tighten, his chest rising and falling with an effort to control his feelings and the thoughts of what if. What if he had been allowed to marry Theodore?

You felt the weight of the room pressing in on you, the heat of the moment magnified by the simple fact that you were aware. There was no illusion between you two. This was an arranged marriage, something necessary for your families.

The priest’s voice broke through the silence, calling your attention to the moment, but Mattheo’s gaze flickered back again to Theodore.

Your heart clenched.

You knew that look. That was the look of a man who was trapped in a dream that could never be his.

His eyes flickered back to you, catching the hesitation in your gaze. And in that moment, the understanding passed between you like a silent agreement. You would be the wife he needed but you would never be the one he truly wanted.

And then, the priest spoke your name. You could feel Mattheo’s attention on you now, truly on you, as he tried to center himself in the present. But even as his eyes met yours, you knew. He would never truly be yours, not completely.

You stood there knowing this would be your life - a life built on mutual respect, duty and understanding. But in your heart, in the silence between his glances at Theodore, a question lingered: What if?