Chapter 5: The Reception

The reception hall glowed in soft gold and warm candlelight. Fairy lights wrapped delicately around white pillars, casting a dreamy haze over the room. Jazz music played in the background, smooth and slow, blending with the hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional cheer from a distant table. A soft breeze flowed through the open balcony doors, carrying with it the faint scent of roses and summer rain.

It was beautiful.

Painfully so.

Exactly the kind of wedding Lark used to talk about—elegant but not stiff, romantic without feeling forced. The kind of celebration he once described to me on a lazy afternoon, back when forever still felt like an option.

I stood at the entrance longer than I meant to, hands clenched tightly around the clutch in front of me. Ishang had already slipped inside, claiming us a table somewhere near the edge of the dance floor, but I couldn’t follow just yet. My feet felt rooted. My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and my throat.

It wasn’t just the fact that he was married now.

It was the surreal weight of everything.

The speeches that spoke of soulmates and destiny. The sound of Elara’s laughter—light, delicate—floating through the room like a melody. The way people looked at them, like they were the happy ending everyone else was hoping for. Like they belonged to a storybook, and we were all just lucky to witness it.

A lump formed in my throat, uninvited and unrelenting.

I finally stepped inside, weaving my way through a sea of smiling faces and slow-dancing couples. I kept my gaze trained low, careful not to linger too long in his direction. Careful not to search for his eyes.

Careful not to remember how it used to feel being in his orbit—how his laughter used to wrap around me like sunlight. How I used to be the one who made him smile that way.

I spotted Ishang at a table tucked near the edge, her dress catching the golden light as she waved me over. She was already halfway through a slice of cake, a glass of something bright and bubbly in her hand.

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to get drunk,” she said as I slid into the seat beside her.

“Tempting,” I murmured, fingers wrapping around my glass. The cool stem pressed into my palm, grounding me.

She studied me, chewing thoughtfully. Her gaze wasn’t judgmental—just quietly understanding.

“You know,” she said, voice soft, “if you want to leave… we can.”

I paused.

I wanted to.

God, I wanted to get up, walk out, and let the door close behind me like a period at the end of a sentence I had dragged out for far too long.

But I didn’t move.

“I want to,” I admitted. “But I don’t think I can.”

She nodded, like she’d known I’d say that. “Closure’s weird like that.”

I looked across the room again. Lark stood near the bar, laughing as he spoke with Elara’s father. His hand was resting lightly on her lower back, his eyes crinkled in that way that only happened when he was genuinely happy.

He looked so natural here. So rooted in this version of life he’d created. He belonged.

And that’s when it hit me.

I didn’t.

I didn’t belong in his world anymore.

And maybe I hadn’t for a long time.

It was like standing outside a house I used to live in—looking through the windows at a life that had continued without me. Rearranged furniture, new photographs on the walls, someone else making coffee in the kitchen.

He had moved on.

And I was still holding a key to a door that didn’t exist.

“Hey.” Ishang’s voice cut through my thoughts, gentle but steady.

I turned to her. “Yeah?”

She tilted her head slightly, watching me. “If you could go back in time… would you have chosen him?”

The question hit harder than I expected.

Would I have?

Would I have said yes when he asked me to give us a chance? Would I have stopped pretending we had all the time in the world? Would I have let myself be brave enough to choose him?

I swallowed hard. My voice came out quieter than I intended. “I don’t know.”

And it was the truth.

Because as much as I missed what we had, as much as every fiber of my being ached with the memory of us, a part of me also knew…

We weren’t built to last.

We were built to grow.

And then, eventually, to outgrow.

We were a chapter, not the whole book.

I lifted my glass, eyes drifting to the soft glow of the lights above.

“For the newlywed,” I whispered, the words catching slightly in my throat.

“For new beginning and for you,” Ishang said, her voice steady as she clinked her glass against mine.

We drank in silence.

And for the first time in a long while, the silence didn’t feel empty.

It felt final.

As the night stretched on, I allowed myself one last moment. One last glance. One last silent goodbye to the boy who had shaped so much of who I had become.

My beginning.

My almost.

My greatest love.

And then, with a deep breath, I finally let him go.

Not in anger.

Not in sorrow.

But in peace.

And in the quiet, something inside me finally shifted.

Like maybe for the first time I was ready to begin again.

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