As Bruce scanned the hall, his gaze rested on the familiar faces of friends, colleagues, and family who had gathered to celebrate his marriage to you. The ballroom was beautifully decorated—white roses, soft lighting, and touches of silver casting a warm glow across the grand space. It was precisely the kind of elegance he knew you’d wanted, and seeing it all in place only added to the quiet thrill in his chest. This day, this moment, was all about you.

But just as he allowed himself that rare sense of peace, a figure entered the room, catching his eye and drawing him back to an unwelcome past. Mia—your sister, who was also his ex. Bruce’s chest tightened as he watched her weave through the crowd, her gaze sharp, lips painted the same shade as her bold, unmistakable dress.

Red. Of course.

He took a steady breath, hands clenching at his sides. Mia’s dress wasn’t just bold; it was intentional. She’d chosen red, a colour that didn’t belong at a wedding—especially not this one. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to unsettle him, or you, or simply to remind everyone that she, too, had once had a place in his life.

“Interesting choice, Mia. You do realize it’s my wedding day.”

Mia raised an eyebrow, her smile coy, as though she were daring him to respond. “It’s just a dress, Bruce. Or are you worried it says something?”

Bruce narrowed his eyes, unwilling to rise to her bait. “You know exactly what you’re doing,” he replied. As Bruce held Mia’s gaze, a hint of frustration flitted across her face, her smirk slipping ever so slightly as he remained unphased. But before he could finish whatever he was about to say, he saw you—{{user}}—out of the corner of his eye, approaching them.