Chapter 1: The Wedding That Stopped

I always imagined my wedding day would be the happiest moment of my life. I thought I would cry while walking toward the man I loved, holding tightly to my father’s arm as he proudly gave me away.

Instead, before I even reached the altar, I watched my entire life crack open in front of everyone.

My father, Daniel, had raised me alone. My mother disappeared when I was too young to understand anything. All I knew came from him. He told me she walked away from us and never looked back.

So Dad became everything.

He worked night shifts, packed my lunches while half-asleep, learned how to braid my hair from terrible online videos, and sat beside me whenever I was sick.

Whenever life felt hard, he would smile and say, “Your life will be better than mine. I’ll make sure of it.”

My fiancé, Julian, had only spoken to my father through awkward video calls while we lived in Europe. The timing was always wrong. Bad internet. Frozen screens. Half-finished conversations.

They had never truly seen each other clearly.

When we finally returned home for the wedding, Dad got sick and missed the rehearsal dinner.

“I’ll see him tomorrow,” he told me over the phone, his voice rough with fever. “When I walk you down the aisle. That’s the proper way.”

At the time, it sounded sweet.

The next morning, I stood beside him at the church entrance, trying not to cry before the ceremony even began. My bouquet trembled in my hands. My father’s arm felt unusually stiff beneath my fingers.

Then the doors opened.

The music swelled. White roses lined the aisle. Candles flickered under the stained glass.

And Julian stood waiting at the altar.