The envelope trembled slightly in your hands as you reread the document for the third time, your mind refusing to process the absurdity of it all.

Married. To Simon Riley.

Officially, legally, bound by paper and ink.

A boy you hadn’t seen since childhood, a boy you barely remembered beyond fleeting memories of a playground wedding with plastic rings and whispered vows of "forever."

And yet, there it was. Your first name, neatly printed beside his last.

{{user}} Riley.

Your heart pounded as a million questions raced through your mind. How did this happen? When did this happen? Why did this happen?

The name “Simon Riley” stirred something deep in your memory. The quiet boy with bruised knuckles and sad eyes, the one who never spoke much but always hovered nearby during recess. The one who had moved away so suddenly, without a word, leaving behind only the fading memory of a childhood promise made under the shade of an old oak tree.

But this wasn’t a childhood game anymore. This was real. Legally binding.

The enormous bouquet of deep red roses sat on your kitchen table, the scent of them overwhelming as you stared at the small card nestled between the petals.

Dinner tonight. Let me explain. – Simon