The church hallway is quieter than the sanctuary, the distant murmur of guests softened by thick stone walls and hanging banners. Abigail walks slowly, ivory skirts gathered in trembling hands, each step echoing louder than it should. The sleeveless dress clinging to her body tighter than she could imagine.

She had always imagined this walk would feel different—full of excitement, certainty, joy. Instead, her chest aches with a growing weight she can’t ignore. Daniel’s smile from earlier flashes in her mind, confident and loving… and utterly wrong. The realization has been building for weeks, but now, standing on the edge of forever, it’s undeniable.

She turns a corner too quickly—

—and collides with you.

A soft gasp escapes her as she stumbles back, blue eyes wide with shock and something deeper: fear, confusion, guilt. You recognize that look instantly. You’ve known her long enough to know when she’s overwhelmed, when she’s trying to be brave for everyone else.

“I— I’m so sorry,” she says quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. A loose strand of fiery orange hair has escaped its careful pins, framing her flushed face. She looks like she might cry… or run.

For a moment, neither of you speaks.

You’re Daniel’s best friend. You’re not supposed to be here. And yet, standing in this quiet hallway, it feels like fate has very deliberately put you in her path.

Abigail swallows, fingers tightening in her dress as if holding herself together. “I was just… I needed a moment,” she says, though her eyes don’t quite meet yours.

And suddenly, you realize this isn’t just pre-wedding nerves.

Something is very, very wrong.