The chapel smelled of lilies and polished wood.
Shafts of sunlight streamed through tall windows, catching in the folds of white satin and black suits, throwing sparks across polished shoes. Leo sat among the congregation, his heart thudding like a hammer inside a fragile box. Everyone around him sat in quiet expectation. The bride was radiant, the groom impossibly handsome.
Amy.
Jack.
She stood at the altar in a gown that shimmered with every breath she took, her hair gathered in a loose crown of curls. Jack stood beside her, shoulders broad beneath his tuxedo, jaw square, smiling with the confidence of a man certain of his fortune.
The officiant raised his voice. "If anyone here knows a reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace." The words echoed through the vaulted chamber, heavy as stones. Silence followed. A silence Leo knew he ought to respect, ought to sit through with hands folded. Instead, he rose to his feet, his legs trembling, his voice cracking.
"I do," he said.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Amy's head whipped toward him, her eyes wide, wet with sudden tears.
"I love you," Leo said, louder now, the words tumbling out with desperate urgency. "I've loved you for years. I can't let this happen without saying it." The congregation turned, hundreds of eyes upon him. His knees buckled, but he forced himself forward, past the polished pews, past the startled groomsmen.
Amy's lips trembled. A tear slipped down her cheek. "Leo…" And then she was running, her gown billowing like a cloud, fleeing down the aisle toward him. He caught her, the world exploding into applause as her arms closed around him. "You finally said it," she whispered through sobs of joy. "I thought you never would." Their mouths met in a kiss that seemed to last an eternity, deep and unshakable, the sound of clapping and cheers swelling around them. Even Jack smiled, clapping along with the rest, as though this had been the ending he'd secretly wished for too.
Leo pulled her closer, the silk of her gown cool beneath his fingers, her tears warm against his cheek.
The alarm blared.
Leo's eyes snapped open to the gray ceiling of his apartment. His heart pounded, but the chapel was gone, the gown gone, the kiss gone. Only the cheap curtains remained, faint light seeping through. He lay still for a moment, the weight of the dream pressing down on him. It had felt real, so real that his lips still tingled. But the truth was an empty room, peeling wallpaper, and the hum of pipes in the walls.
With a groan, he dragged himself out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a face pale with exhaustion, stubble peppering his jaw, eyes ringed with shadows. He brushed his teeth, showered under lukewarm water, and dressed in the stiff blue uniform. His phone buzzed in his pocket. A message from his landlord.
Leo, you're two months behind. I've been patient, but this is getting ridiculous. Pay up soon or I'll have to take action.
Leo's stomach clenched. He tapped a quick reply: I'm sorry. I'll get it sorted this week. Just had some unexpected medical bills. Please bear with me.
That part was true, at least. His father's minor surgery had drained what little savings he had, and his paycheck barely covered groceries. He had planned to catch up next month, but the numbers never added up. Pocketing his phone, he shouldered his bag and left.
***
The staffroom was alive with chatter when he arrived. Greg was already in mid-rant, gesturing wildly with a half-eaten muffin.
"I'm telling you, the machine is rigged. I put in two dollars for chips, and it gave me gum. Gum! Do I look like I chew gum?"
Raj laughed. "Maybe it's trying to help your breath."
Greg tossed a crumb at him.
Amy was pouring coffee into a paper cup, her hair loose around her shoulders. She looked up at Leo and smiled faintly. "Morning."
He swallowed, returning the smile. "Morning."
Jack entered behind him, filling the doorway with his frame. "Hey, everyone."
"Morning, hero," Greg said. "Ready to save the world one parcel at a time?"
Jack chuckled. "Always."
Amy's smile brightened. "You're early."
"Wanted to beat traffic," Jack said. Their eyes lingered on each other a moment too long, a silent gesture that made Leo's throat tighten.
The manager, Mr. Carlisle, poked his head in. A gaunt man with thinning hair, he always spoke as though he were announcing bad news. "Let's get moving, team. Tuesdays wait for no one."
The morning rush began with a backlog of parcels. Leo was assigned to sorting letters for the rural routes, a tedious task that required constant attention. He slid envelopes into trays, his fingers moving mechanically. But his mind was elsewhere—back in the chapel, Amy in her gown, her lips against his.
Every so often, laughter drifted from the front. Amy and Jack were side by side at the counter, trading quips with customers. Leo imagined their smiles.
By midmorning, he was called to the counter to cover for Mrs. Denton, who shuffled off muttering about needing tea. The line was long, customers impatient. Leo processed bill payments, weighed parcels, and handed out forms.
A cute girl with long auburn hair came in. Couldn't have been older than twenty-three, probably in college. She was carrying a padded envelope, leaning casually on the counter. "Hi," she said, her voice lilting. "Could you help me fill this out? I'm terrible with forms."
Before Leo could answer, Jack stepped forward. "Sure thing."
The girl's smile widened. "Thanks. You look like you know what you're doing."
Jack walked her through the form, his voice warm, easy. She giggled at something he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. When she left, she waved at him. "Bye, Jack."
Amy laughed and mimicked her; "Bye, Jack."
Jack just grinned and returned to his station.
After lunch, Leo was assigned to the passport desk, a duty he rarely enjoyed. Parents herded restless children, young adults fumbled with documents, everyone impatient with the bureaucracy. Amy and Jack, meanwhile, shared the front registers again, their banter light and playful.
At one point, Leo glanced over and froze. Amy reached across the counter, her hand brushing Jack's arm. She laughed, then placed her palm on his bicep, making a theatrical hissing sound as though touching something hot.
Jack laughed, flexing playfully.
Leo looked down at the passport application in his hands, the letters blurring. The dream flooded back. Amy running down the aisle, tears of joy on her face, their kiss. Compared to this, her laughter at Jack's side felt like mockery. For the remainder of the day, he endured every smile Amy gave Jack, every joke, every brush of her hand. He sat through it in silence, his heart breaking anew with each passing hour.
By closing, he was hollow. He helped stack parcels for next-day delivery, listening to Raj hum cheerfully. Greg cracked jokes about a customer who had tried to send a frozen turkey through standard mail. Mrs. Denton muttered about "idiots breeding faster than stamps." Even Mr. Carlisle, counting the registers, seemed less dour than usual.
Leo was silent.
On the walk home, he trailed behind Amy and Jack, who walked side by side, their laughter soft in the evening air. Amy touched his arm again, lightly, casually. Leo stopped, unable to watch any longer. He turned down a side street, his chest tight.
At home, he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. The dream rose again in his mind. Amy's tears of joy, her kiss, her words—'I thought you never would. For years he had been passive, waiting, watching, letting life pass him by. Always silent, always too afraid to act. Always weak-willed, indecisive, hoping something would change on its own.
No more.
He clenched his fists, the decision forming like iron in his chest. He would tell her. He would confess, no matter the risk.
For once in his life, Leo would be a man who acted.