But I love him.
Even now. Even after everything. I love him.
Surely this is all a misunderstanding? Surely there’s an explanation. Surely the man who called three kings to protect me, who flew my mother across the country, who kissed me like I was the only thing in the world worth having—
Surely there’s still hope.
I start to close the book.
A cat darts across the road.
The chauffeur slams the brakes.
The book flies out of my hands.
It lands on the floor of the limo, splayed open.
To the next page.
Oh dear,I think.
New words appear on the open page.
Oh dear,the book writes back.The decision has been taken out of your hands. Literally and figuratively.
The text has me scrambling for the book, but my fingers pass through the pages like they’re made of mist.
In the count of three,the words continue,you will find yourself—
Three,I think desperately.
—back in your old world—
Two.
—where a new beginning awaits.
One—
WHOA.
The limo is gone.
I’m standing in Lauve Studio.
And I’m wearing a wedding dress.
The familiar space surrounds me: exposed brick walls, high ceilings, natural light streaming through the massive windows. Cool and clean, maybe 5600K—daylight balanced, the way Heart always insisted. The smell of fresh flowers and expensive perfume. The soft click of a camera shutter.
I know this place. I worked here. I stood behind that camera for years, invisible, capturing other women’s happiest moments while I disappeared into the background.
But now I’m the one in white. The one in front of the lens.
White.
I’m wearing white to my own wedding.
In Devyn’s world, I wore black. Stood in that chapel like a ghost, a death omen, while everyone stared. But here—here I look like a bride. A real bride. The way I always imagined it.
