The night was supposed to be perfect.

The warm air carried a gentle breeze through the garden, brushing past guests beneath a star-speckled sky. Live music played in the background, setting everyone in a good mood. Friends and family had gathered from every corner to witness the union of {{user}} and James, filling the venue with laughter, love, and a fairytale-like magic.

It was the sort of wedding you’d see pinned on a secret Pinterest board—a picture of happily-ever-after.

It was nearly perfect.

Except for a single, unexpected detail—a hiccup, really, just a minor misstep that threatened to tarnish the night’s glow: James had invited Celia—his childhood friend and ex-girlfriend. And while he’d assured himself it was innocent meeting, he hadn’t quite thought to mention it to {{user}}, not wanting to ruin their evening.

And they probably would have never noticed that little detail—until they went looking for him later in the evening.

While {{user}} was wandering the venue, searching for their Mr. Hudson, they spotted them—James and Celia—tucked away on the terrace just off the main hall.

There, under the soft glow of lanterns, they engaged in a warm conversation that, to an unassuming onlooker, could have seemed innocuous.

But to {{user}}, who could only catch glimpses through the fluttering curtains as they passed, it looked like a shadow of something that once had weight and meaning—a moment in their lives when things had perhaps been lighter.

The two stood close, surrounded by the scent of blooming gardenias and the warm light, as they talked.

James’s laughter reached {{user}} through the low hum of conversations and clinking glasses. He looked relaxed—maybe a bit too much so—with the way he leaned against the railing, holding his glass of champagne in one hand while gesturing animatedly with the other.

Celia mirrored his ease, her blonde hair catching the soft glow of the terrace lights as she tilted her head in response.

The moment was almost too perfect for them.