Roy never expected his life to split cleanly into two halves—before the wedding and after the wedding. But that’s exactly what happened the day Jen vanished, leaving nothing behind except a folded dress, a bouquet that still smelled like dawn, and a single napkin whispering, “I’m sorry. Don’t look for me.”
For years, he lived inside the echo of that message, trying to stitch together a life around a question that never stopped bleeding. He built a business, built habits, built a version of himself that could function, but deep down he carried an emptiness he learned to hide behind calm smiles and full schedules. To everyone around him, he looked steady. They never saw the part of him that had been left at that altar, waiting for a woman who would never walk down the aisle.
Back then, Roy and Jen had been inseparable. Their story began in a crowded college hallway when she dropped her books and he knelt beside her to help. Her smile, warm and shy, left a mark on him so deep it felt like recognition. From that day, their lives wove together effortlessly—late-night coffees, shared exams, burnt pasta dinners in tiny apartments, whispered dreams, tearful arguments that ended with midnight pizza. After four years, he knew he wanted her forever. And she said yes with tears streaming down her face.
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