My family abandoned me after an accident—they chose to save my sister instead. Five years later, I saw them again at her wedding. When my father spotted me, he froze. “Why are you still alive?” he demanded, then turned on my sister. She stammered. I thought it was all an act—until the groom stepped forward. What he said next shattered me completely.

And he did. To the shock of the socialites and the horror of her father, Liam scooped Clara up into his arms, bridal style. The black dress flowed around them.

“We’re skipping the reception!” Liam shouted to the crowd as he carried her back down the aisle. “Help yourselves to the cake! It cost ten grand!”

A few of Liam’s friends—the ones who knew the truth, the ones who had helped with the tech—started to cheer. Slowly, others joined in. It was a bizarre, chaotic applause, born of relief and the sheer cinematic madness of the moment.

As they reached the heavy oak doors, Marcus Sterling lifted his head. He looked old. He looked hollow.

“Clara!” he called out, his voice cracking.

Liam didn’t stop. He kicked the door open. The fresh sea air rushed in, cleansing the scent of the lilies.

“Don’t look back,” Liam whispered to her.

“I’m not,” Clara said, burying her face in his neck.

They burst out into the grey afternoon, leaving the chapel, the father, and the empty altar behind them.