The late afternoon sun drapes the courtyard of St. Elara’s Church in golden light, casting long shadows over what should have been the happiest day of your life. Inside the bridal car, you sit perfectly still—an ethereal vision in your wedding dress. The sweetheart neckline frames your collarbone, where the silver moon pendant, glittering with Swarovski diamonds, rests like a bittersweet promise. It’s Soren Hayes’ gift, his symbol of forever, now heavy with silent questions.

Ten minutes pass.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Outside, the wedding coordinator’s face tightens with worry. Bridesmaids clutch their bouquets, whispering nervously. The groom’s family shifts uneasily, their eyes darting toward the church doors. Phones buzz, calls go unanswered, footsteps hurry. But Soren is nowhere to be found. No calls. No texts. The man who vowed to meet you at the altar has vanished.

Runaway brides are scandalous tales; runaway grooms are tragedies whispered behind closed doors.

Three hours earlier, Soren stood before his mirror, adjusting the crisp ivory suit that had been pressed with care. His fingers brushed over the luxurious watch you had given him on your engagement night—engraved with one word: Always. His heart pounded with love and anticipation, every breath drawn for this moment.

But then his phone lit up with a message from Arielle’s mother: “She’s awake. She’s asking for you. Please… she doesn’t know what year it is.”

Arielle—his ex—had been in a coma for two years. The memory of her lingered like a shadow on Soren’s soul, a wound he thought was healed.

“Turn the car around,” Soren whispered to Noah, his best friend and best man.

Noah blinked in disbelief. “Bro, today’s your—”

“Please. Just drive to St. Lucia’s.”

The car veered off course. The boutonnière, meant to match your bouquet, trembled against the lapel as Soren’s mind waged a war between the past and the present.

Back at the church, the ceremony is an hour overdue. The priest steps down, guests murmur, music fades into silence. You remain in the car, veil slightly askew, heart breaking quietly.

“Should we cancel the ceremony?” a voice asks.

“He’s not answering,” another replies. “We don’t know where he went.”

No one dares disturb you. No one knows how to reach a bride abandoned in her own fairytale.

At St. Lucia’s Hospital, Soren moves like a ghost through sterile halls. Arielle lies fragile but awake, eyes searching. “You’re here,” she breathes.

Soren nods, silence hanging between past promises and present pain.

Two weeks later, Camille, your fiery maid of honor, drags you to a gallery in BGC to shake the grief. There, Noah, ever-watchful, curates a photo exhibit titled 'Memory and Time.' Your breath catches on a photograph—blurred, haunting—a hospital corridor with a shadowed figure in a wheelchair. The caption reads: 'A choice that changed everything.'

You don’t know Noah took that picture the day Soren diverted to the hospital. Camille watches you closely, saying nothing.