დ Elara დ
Aidan stood at the end of the aisle, sunlight cutting over his shoulder, tux pressed and perfect, a statue in a garden built for someone else’s fairy tale. Celeste was beside him. Every inch polished, her eyes hard, and her mouth tight with expectation. All around them, the guests waited: society’s chosen, family names on polished invitations, people I had only seen in headlines. No one breathed. Not even me. Aidan’s gaze was on me, but his eyes were clouded, searching. I felt the weight of every secret I had ever kept, every hope I had ever carried. I felt it press down on me as I stood in front of a hundred perfect strangers in their Sunday best, begging for a miracle. How did I get here? I let my eyes blur for a moment, letting memory fill the cracks in my courage.
The idea
