From the moment I saw you, it was decided.
Now I just wait…
and see how long you make me stand here before you finally stop running from what belongs to me.
"Sir?" the wedding officiant whispers, and then…
The doors open.
And for a moment, the entire world ceases to exist.
Valentina.
She stands there, framed in the doorway, backlit by the late afternoon sun streaming through the stained glass behind her, turning her into something almost unreal.
The tension locked in my body releases in a slow, controlled exhale, something deep inside me settling in a way I rarely allow myself to feel. She came. She's here.
She chose me.
And for the first time since this began, I don't have to guess… I know.
She begins to walk toward me, her steps even, her posture steady despite the weight of every eye in the room on her.Her hand rests in her father's, and Marco walks beside her, composed, his expression unreadable to anyone who doesn't know him.
I do.
His gaze meets mine briefly as they approach, something passing between us without a word.
Respect and understanding. Then my attention shifts back to her.
Because the moment she notices, everything changes.
Her gaze lifts, scanning the space, and then she stills, just slightly, her steps faltering for a fraction of a second before she recovers.
The flowers.
Soft blue woven through everything, subtle but intentional. Except the heart of flowers exactly where we're standing, just like in her drawing.
Forget-me-nots.
Exactly the way she once described them.
Her fingers tighten around her father's arm, and when she looks at me again, her eyes are bright, emotion breaking through her composure.
When she reaches me, her breath is uneven, her control slipping just enough.
"How did you know?" she whispers.
I glance past her, just slightly, my chin dipping toward Marco.
"I had help."
A quiet sound leaves her, something between a laugh and a breath, and she shakes her head like she still can't quite believe it.
Then she looks at me, and everything else disappears.
"You're here," I say, my voice low enough that only she hears it.
Her lips part slightly, her eyes locked on mine.
