“He’s here.”
My stomach dropped.
By the time I reached the hallway, Daniel was arguing with Peter and my father.
The moment he saw me, his expression crumbled.
“Serah, I made a mistake.”
I stared at him.
“You think?”
He tried to explain. He said he panicked. Said he still loved me.
But some truths arrive too late.
“Not enough,” I told him.
Peter quietly stepped beside me and took my hand.
Not dramatically.
Not possessively.
Just enough to remind me I wasn’t facing that moment alone.
Eventually, Daniel left.
Forty minutes later, I walked down the aisle.
The chapel was full.
My dress fit perfectly.
My father escorted me with tears in his eyes.
My mother started crying before the music even began.
Peter stood waiting in a black suit.
When I reached him, he whispered:
“You’re the kind of woman someone should run toward, not away from.”
During the ceremony, he surprised everyone.
Including me.
When asked if he wanted to share personal words, he looked directly at me.
“I agreed to stand here because I thought she deserved the wedding she dreamed of,” he said. “But somewhere along the way, she stopped being a job.”
The room fell silent.
Then he added:
“I don’t know what tomorrow looks like. But standing beside you has been one of the easiest and most meaningful things I’ve done in a very long time.”
By then, half the room was crying.
