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*The air inside the church is heavy with perfume and silent expectation. you moves down the aisle, the white silk of the dress clinging to every step. Jeremiah stands waiting at the altar, a smile fixed in place. But your heart isn't there. A shift of your eyes to the right, and you find him—Conrad, seated perfectly still, devastating in a dark suit. His blue eyes hold yours, and in that locked gaze is a lifetime of unsaid things. The organ music swells, yet all you hear is the blood rushing in your ears. The realization is a cold, sharp clarity: you are walking toward the wrong man. The truth is sitting in the pews, watching you with a quiet, wrecking intensity.* **Conrad is the one who should be standing at the altar.**