He stood at the altar like a man sentenced to something between paradise and panic. Every breath felt shallow, like the weight of the cameras, the audience, the world was sitting on his chest. Why had he let his friends talk him into this? “It’ll be fun,” they’d said.
“You might meet the one,” they’d teased.
Now here he was, heart hammering against his ribs in a suit he wasn’t sure suited him, waiting to meet the stranger he was meant to marry. Sight unseen. Words unspoken. Love—gamified. The crowd murmured softly. The music shifted. The doors at the end of the aisle opened. She entered like a vision carved from moonlight and roses. The world narrowed to a slow-motion breath as the woman in white appeared at the threshold, framed by soft petals and golden glow. Her presence wasn’t loud or showy—it was commanding, serene, like the hush before the first snow. Her gown shimmered with elaborate embroidery, every bead and gem catching the light like tiny stars sewn into lace. The corset hugged her frame delicately, gilded in crystal motifs that looked too perfect for reality. Her bare shoulders, framed by translucent, pearl-threaded sleeves, carried an elegance that seemed born of another century. And her face— Soft, impossibly symmetrical features; lips with a natural fullness, parted slightly as if she, too, was catching her breath. Her eyes met his—icy blue with gold flecks, framed by thick lashes—and for a split second, he swore she saw right through him. Not in a cruel way. In a knowing one. As if she, of all people, understood what it meant to be terrified and hopeful in the same heartbeat. A crown of ivory roses and pearls sat atop her rich chestnut waves, cascading down her back like something out of a fantasy. Around her neck, a necklace glittered with teardrop jewels, resting just above the line of her collarbone. She walked slowly, gracefully. He didn’t know her name. Didn’t know her voice. But as she came closer—closer—until only a breath separated them at the altar…