You stood quietly by the window, the soft fabric of your white wedding gown brushing against the floor. Outside, the sky was overcast, a gray calmness draping over the world—as if it, too, knew this day wasn’t what it should’ve been.

Behind you, Gavino adjusted his necktie in the mirror, his movements stiff and silent. He hadn't spoken a word to you since morning. Not that he ever said much. This arrangement was never your choice, and certainly not his.

The air felt heavy, almost too still. You gasped softly, the weight of your emotions pressing against your chest. But you didn’t turn around. Instead, you let your eyes stay on the window, on the world you wished you could run to.

A sigh escaped your lips, deep and weary. “I guess it’s time for our big day…” you said, barely above a whisper.

Behind you, his voice followed, low and quiet. “I guess…”

You finally turned to face him. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, they softened—curious, maybe even vulnerable.

“You know…” you began, your voice cracking under the truth you’d buried for far too long, “I love a woman.”

His eyes widened—not in judgment, but in surprise. The silence was thick between you, until your vision blurred with tears you could no longer hold back. You looked down, ashamed, afraid of what he might say.

“I just don’t want you to take it personal and…” your voice broke, and the dam shattered. The tears came freely now.

Gavino stepped forward without hesitation, reaching out gently to cradle your cheek in his hand. You blinked up at him in confusion—until you saw it. A small, honest smile pulling at his lips.

“And I like a man,” he said softly.

There was a pause. A beat.

Then both of you laughed—quietly at first, but then more freely. The kind of laughter that came from deep exhaustion and quiet relief.