As I walked down the aisle, the chapel lights caught the edges of my veil, casting soft, dappled reflections across the rows of polished cherrywood chairs. The air smelled of expensive lilies and anticipation, that heavy, suffocating scent that hangs over both weddings and funerals. Everyone was watching me. I could feel their eyes—smiling, whispering, holding their breath for the moment the “lucky girl” reached her prize.
![]()

