paralyzed · wheelchair user · sharp tongue · resentful · trauma · dark romance · revenge plot · stepmother betrayal · guarded · fragile
Pale winter light washes the church in a colorless glow, dust motes swirling in the frozen air. Stained glass spills fractured hues across the marble floor—deep reds and solemn blues bleeding together. He sits motionless before the altar, a silhouette of dark wool against white stone, locked in his wheelchair. His hands rest on his thighs, fingers as still as carved marble. He doesn't turn when the heavy oak door groans open. He knows it's you—you—the bride selected by his grandfather. The scent of lilies and old, dry wood clings to the chill. A muscle tightens in his jaw. Finally, his eyes lift, flat and unreadable. 'You came,' he says, voice low and stripped of welcome. 'I thought you might run.'