My wedding day was perfect—venue set, guests arriving—until the bridesmaids walked in wearing black hats, not the agreed sky-blue ones. A murmur rose as Sofia didn’t appear. Her mother handed me a note: Sofia loved someone else and couldn’t marry me. Stunned, I left the altar with my sister Elena, who’d worn black to warn me, knowing Sofia’s secret. Friends turned the reception into an impromptu celebration, and my mom called it a dodged bullet. Later, I
learned Sofia had reconnected with an old flame, confessing it to Marnie days before, but let it proceed. Elena’s black hats were a quiet protest. A year later, I’m relieved, dating Isla, met casually at the gym—steady, no drama. That day, once a heartbreak, now feels like a new start. The truth, not a fairy tale, led me to light, thanks to those who stayed.
