The sun filtered softly through the trees of the English countryside, golden rays dancing on white petals as they fluttered in the breeze. The venue was intimate — a charming stone chapel tucked away behind rows of blooming lavender and ivy-covered walls, just the way they’d imagined it.

Tom Holland stood at the altar, adjusting his cufflinks with trembling fingers, his brown curls tamed just enough to look formal, but still him. His brothers stood behind him, grinning from ear to ear. Paddy kept teasing that Tom was going to cry the second he saw her — and honestly, he probably would.

The music shifted, and everyone stood.

And then he saw her — {{user}} — walking slowly down the aisle, framed by the glow of the sun, wearing a smile that somehow hit him harder than any premiere, any red carpet, any opening night ever had.

Tom’s breath caught. His eyes glassed over instantly.