But the world seemed to see it differently.

“You’re still young,” my mother said one evening, her voice heavy with concern. “Don’t throw away your future.”

“You’ll meet a normal man,” she added quietly. “You can have children, live happily…”

Her words hurt, not because she didn’t care, but because she couldn’t see what I felt. I was already happy. Daniel was still the man I loved — my anchor, my truth. And I wasn’t about to walk away from the life we had dreamed of together.

The wedding day came. Everything was perfect: the music, the flowers, the crisp spring air. Daniel wore a white shirt with suspenders, looking as handsome as ever. I was in white lace, my eyes locked on his.

But I could feel it — the stares, the pity in the guests’ eyes. They saw me and thought, Poor girl. She could have had a different life.