Emma—or whoever this enigmatic bride was—looked as startled as I felt. There was recognition in her eyes, a flicker of something familiar, and yet, there was also a hint of unfamiliarity, as if life had etched new stories on her soul that I had no part in.

Daniel, oblivious to the storm inside me, beamed with pride and joy. He had found love, a companion to share his life with, and I wanted to be happy for him. But how could I, when the specter of my past stood before me, challenging everything I believed to be true?

I remembered the day I lost Emma. A tragic accident, they said—a cruel twist of fate that left Lily motherless and me a widower. For years, I had clung to those memories, to the life we had shared, finding solace in the love we had known. I had learned to live with the ache, the lingering presence of her absence.