The moment I saw him, time folded in on itself. My wedding dress disappeared, the grand cathedral faded, and suddenly I was eighteen again—standing on the broken pavement of a quiet street with a boy who made the world feel less cruel.
His name was Adrian.
He wasn't rich, not powerful, not anything like Alexander. He was the kind of boy you weren't supposed to fall for—reckless, stubborn, with a smile that could trick you into forgiving anything. And of course, I fell anyway.
We met by accident. Or maybe fate. My father's car had broken down just outside the old market square. While he cursed under the hood, I wandered off and found myself at a food stall, arguing with a seller who tried to cheat me. Then, out of nowhere, Adrian appeared, tossing a few coins onto the counter with that lazy grin of his.
"Let her go," he'd said. "She's not worth your lies."
I should have been offended—"not worth your lies"?—but instead I laughed. He laughed too. And just like that, we slipped into each other's lives.
The weeks that followed were a blur of late-night walks, stolen kisses, and promises whispered in the dark. Adrian had nothing but dreams—big, wild dreams about escaping the city, building a life far from the chaos we both hated.
And me? I believed him. I believed every word.
But then came that night.
We had been at one of those rundown bars near the docks, the kind that smelled of sweat, smoke, and broken promises. Adrian had gotten into an argument with a man twice his size. I tried to pull him away, but Adrian's pride was bigger than his common sense.
"Stay out of it, Elena," he hissed, his jaw tight.
But I couldn't. I had seen that look before—the one that meant he was seconds away from doing something reckless.
The man shoved him. Adrian shoved back.
And in the chaos, someone slipped, someone screamed, and the next thing I knew, the man was on the floor.
Not moving.
My heart nearly stopped.
"Adrian—" my voice cracked, but he was already dragging me toward the back door, his hand crushing mine.
"We have to go," he said, his face pale, his voice shaking for the first time I'd ever heard.
I stumbled after him, my heels clattering on the wet pavement. "But… what if he's—"
"Don't say it!" he snapped. "Don't. We didn't see anything. Do you hear me? We weren't there."
That was the moment my life split in two. The girl who once laughed at a market stall was gone. In her place stood a girl who carried a secret that could destroy everything—my family's reputation, my freedom, my future.
We ran that night, disappearing into the dark. By morning, Adrian swore we were safe. No one had seen us, he promised. No one could trace it back.
But the guilt never left me. Every laugh felt stolen. Every kiss tasted of lies.
And when Adrian disappeared months later—vanished without explanation—I convinced myself it was fate giving me a second chance. I buried it all. Him, the accident, the guilt.
I thought I'd buried it deep enough to never be dug up again.
But seeing him in the church today?
It was proof that the past doesn't stay dead.