The wedding preparations were in full swing. The scent of fresh flowers, the shimmer of fabric swatches, and the rustling of guest lists filled the air with quiet excitement. Décor plans were drafted, the event hall was booked, and phones buzzed endlessly with arrangements. Joy buzzed through every conversation. Laughter floated freely. Annabelle's joy was unmatched. Her best friend was finally stepping into the happiness she had waited years for.
But Vicky?
His heart was anything but light.
He walked through the preparations like a ghost in a celebration. Smiles came, but not freely. His mind echoed with one heavy question:
"What am I going to do?"
He was marrying the woman he had dreamed of—yet buried beneath the surface was a truth he couldn't outrun.
Mirabel sat cross-legged on her bed, sunlight slipping through the half-open window, warming her skin. Her diary lay open across her lap, and her pen danced across the page like a trusted friend.
"I never imagined love would find me like this. For years, I watched others fall into it—feeling like a spectator in someone else's story. I used to wonder: would it ever be my turn?, And now… here I am. Engaged. Loved. Happy. Vicky sees me in ways I never dared to see myself. He brings out the version of me I thought had died years ago.This joy… it takes me back to that vow I once made—to close my heart forever. I could've missed all of this. But love broke through.
It's more than emotion. It's a world. A safe place. A shared silence. And with Vicky… it's real. It's steady. It's different. I'm so happy, diary. I truly am."
She paused. Rested her chin in her palm. A small smile played on her lips—but behind it, a flicker of something else. Fear.
Not of the present… but of how fast happiness can vanish.A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts.Before she could answer, Nanny stepped in with a warm smile. "You're writing again?" she asked, already knowing.
Mirabel nodded, quietly closing the diary. "Just trying to hold onto this feeling," she said softly.
Nanny came closer, brushed a strand of hair from Mirabel's face. "Then write it all down, sweetheart. Write until the fear has no place left to hide."
Nanny settled beside her on the bed, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "I can see happiness written all over your face, Mirabel. And this—this joy—is all I've ever wanted for you."
Mirabel smiled, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "You, Annabelle… everyone… you've all given me reasons to smile. I really don't know how to thank you enough."
Nanny placed her hand gently over Mirabel's. "Don't embarrass me, dear. You owe me nothing. It's my joy and duty to see you happy. But promise me something."
"Anything," Mirabel replied.
"Hold onto that happiness. Protect it. Life doesn't hand it out freely—it's fragile, precious. Guard it with everything you've got."
Mirabel's smile faded slightly, her gaze dropping to her lap. "I know, Nanny… I really do. But I can't help feeling frightened."
"Frightened?" Nanny asked, brow creasing. "About what, sweetheart?"
Mirabel shook her head slowly. "I don't even know. It's just this… feeling. Like something's coming. Like this happiness I feel right now—it won't last."
Nanny squeezed her hand. "Don't say that. Don't invite fear in before it even knocks."
"I know… but—"
"No 'buts,'" Nanny said firmly, cutting her off. "You hear me? Don't let fear chew its way into that beautiful heart of yours. Be positive. Be present. You deserve every bit of this joy."
Mirabel took a breath, nodded. "Okay… I'll try."
"That's my girl." Nanny pulled her into a warm hug, holding her tightly—as if shielding her from the unseen storm.
Across town, Vicky stood in the dim quiet of his apartment. The room was still, but his mind was chaos.He stared at his reflection in the glass—dark eyes filled with guilt, lips pressed into a hard line. With a guttural cry, he stepped forward and slammed his fist into the wall. The thud echoed, and pain bloomed across his knuckles.
He leaned his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily.
"What the hell is wrong with me?" he whispered. "Why did I let it happen?"
His fists clenched tighter, he felt the weight of that night.
And now… he was about to marry Mirabel.But how long could a lie survive before it turned into a storm?
He leaned his forehead against the wall, breathing heavily.
"I love Mirabel… I want to spend my life with her… but what if she finds out? What if I lose her over one stupid, drunken mistake?"
He picked up his phone, he stared at the screen, jaw clenched. After a long pause, he tapped the dial button.
She answered almost immediately. " Hey Vicky…"
"We need to talk," he said, his tone flat and urgent.
"Talk? About what?"
"Just—pick a place, Rose. It's important."
There was a short silence. Then, "There's a restaurant beside the hotel I'm staying at… you know it.."
"The Place," Vicky said.
"Yes, that's the one."
"I'll be there in thirty minutes." He ended the call without another word.
The Place restaurant buzzed softly with chatter, clinking cutlery, and light music overhead. Vicky sat at a corner table, eyes fixed on the entrance. When Rose walked in, their gazes met briefly; she hesitated but then approached and sat across from him, her expression unreadable.
"Why did you call, Vicky? What's wrong?" Rose asked.
Vicky swallowed hard. "That night, Rose... I can't live with it. My conscience's killing me. I can't breathe."
"Vicky, please calm down. I know how you feel. I—"
"You don't know, Rose," he interrupted harshly. "You seriously don't. Everything was finally working out. I'd convinced Mirabel... then that night happened. Why did we do it? Why did I get drunk? What was wrong with me?"
Rose's voice softened. "Vicky, it's not your fault. You were sad, lonely. You drank to cope. There's nothing wrong with that. I was there—I couldn't let you be alone."
She paused, then continued, "Listen, Vicky… everything will be fine. Just stay calm."
"The wedding preparations have already started," he said, voice tight. "I can't marry her without telling her the truth."
"Just be calm. I promise no one will find out. If she learns the truth, everything will change. Her love for you could fade... and I'm sure you don't want that."
Vicky didn't smile.
"Vicky," Rose said firmly, folding her arms. "It happened. We can't erase it. We just have to move on. I won't tell anyone. I want you to be happy—that's all."
Silence settled between them, thick and heavy. Vicky's anxiety simmered beneath the surface.
"I don't want to lie to her," he admitted quietly. "If I don't confess now, I'll have to live with this lie forever—and it won't let me be at peace."
"If you tell the truth… you'll lose her, Vicky. Just stay calm. The more you stress, the worse it gets. Stress makes you rush into bad decisions."
He leaned back in his chair, but relief refused to come. The weight of his secret pressed down harder with every heartbeat, the fear of everything falling apart growing.
"It's fine, Rose. I'll be calm," he said at last.
Rising from the table, Vicky walked out, the night air heavy around him as he headed home.