I always thought the altar would feel different. I thought I’d be grinning, or sweating, or drunk. But I’m just... still.

She walks down the aisle in a white dress that doesn’t belong to the shy, nerdy girl from high school. No glasses. No books clutched to her chest. Just confidence—and that same fire in her eyes I pretended not to notice back then.

Sofia.

The girl my father forced me to “date” because she had a brain and a spine. The good girl. The girl I kissed in secret behind the science building and swore meant nothing. The one I told myself I didn’t want.

We were fake. Until we weren’t.

We screwed around like it was a game. Then she left—for college, for life, for everything I wasn’t brave enough to chase.

Ten years.

Ten damn years since I watched her get into that taxi and vanish from my world.

Now here we are—at the altar. An arranged marriage, courtesy of two powerful families playing puppet master. I agreed for business. For image. For the same damn reasons I fake-dated her back then.

But now, her eyes lock onto mine like a punch to the chest. There’s no hate in them. No fear. Just... silence. Knowing.

She stops in front of me. The music fades. The priest speaks, but I only hear her breath. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to say I missed her. That I thought of her every time I touched another woman. That I never stopped wondering what we could’ve been if I wasn’t such a coward.

But all I manage is her name. “Sofia.”