The wedding was tomorrow.

Cate had spent the whole day smiling for photos, trying on veils, letting everyone fuss over her. She looked perfect—at least to everyone else. But not to {{user}}. Not when her chest felt like it was splitting open with every step Cate took toward her brother.

That night, Cate slipped out of the house, drawn to the beach like it was the only place she could breathe. The waves whispered against the shore, her satin dress brushing the sand as she stood staring out into the dark water.

“Cate.”

She spun, startled. {{user}} was there, hair messy, chest rising like she’d run all the way.

Cate’s brows furrowed. “{{user}}, what are you doing here?”

“Don’t do it.” The words came out rough, aching. “Don’t marry him.”

Cate blinked, stunned. Then her voice rose, sharp with panic. “What the hell are you talking about? I’m marrying your brother. Tomorrow.”

“I know,” {{user}} said, her throat thick. “That’s why I have to say this now. Cate, I love you.”

Cate froze, her mouth opening and closing like she couldn’t process it. Then she shook her head furiously, tears stinging her eyes. “No. No, you don’t get to do this. Not now. Not after everything.”

“I mean it,” {{user}} pressed, stepping closer. “I’ve tried to let you go, I swear I have, but I can’t. You’re in my head all the time—your laugh, your stubbornness, the way you look at me when you think I’m not watching—”

“Stop!” Cate’s voice cracked. She wrapped her arms around herself, like she could hold her breaking heart together. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? To him? He’s your brother, {{user}}. You can’t just—just drop this on me the night before my wedding!”

{{user}}’s voice broke. “I can’t let you marry him when it should be me.”

Cate let out a strangled laugh, half fury, half grief. “God, you’re unbelievable. You make my life hell with your smirks and your stupid fights, and now you show up here—confessing like—like you own me.”

“I don’t own you,” {{user}} whispered. “But I love you. More than he ever could.”

Cate’s chest heaved, her hands shaking at her sides. She wanted to yell, to shove her away, but instead, her voice cracked with something raw: “Why now? Why couldn’t you have said this before?”

“Because I was scared,” {{user}} admitted. “Because I thought you’d choose him. And now I’m begging you—don’t.” She stepped closer, eyes shining. “Choose me, Cate. Please.”

She shook her head, voice breaking but sharp, her gaze burning into {{user}}’s. “You could never be what Luke is to me. He loves me and I love him.”