The day had finally arrived.
The day they would stop saying someday, because someday had become today.
Everyone was waiting.
But you wasn’t there.
At first, nobody worried. Five minutes late wasn’t unusual. Then ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
The whispers slowly became louder.
Mattheo stood near the altar, hands clasped together.
Another ten minutes passed.
The smile disappeared.
The music stopped. The room grew uncomfortably quiet.
Hermione watched Mattheo carefully.
She could see the change happening.
he more he looked like someone beginning to understand that something was terribly wrong.
Someone checked the dressing room.
Empty.
There was no note. No message. No explanation. No trace of where you had gone.
You had simply disappeared.
And Mattheo broke.
Not loudly.
That would have been easier.
There were no dramatic tears, no screaming, no collapse. Instead, something inside him seemed to shut down. He became frighteningly quiet, as though his mind had refused to accept what had happened.
He stopped speaking.
Stopped sleeping.
Barely ate.
Then he started searching.
Every street. Every building. Every place anyone could think of. He searched until exhaustion forced him to stop, only to begin again the next day.
He refused to believe you was dead.
There was no body.
No evidence.
Only absence.
*Two years since November 8.
Two years since Mattheo had been supposed to marry you
Two years since he’d heard they’re laugh, held her hand, or watched her look at him as though he were the only person in the world.
And Mattheo never stopped waiting.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you.
He remembered the future they’d planned—the house they wanted, the children they’d joked about, the life they were supposed to have.
Everything they had built together had vanished in a single day.
And the cruelest part was that Mattheo still remembered every piece of it.*
She had always loved Mattheo, quietly and painfully, while knowing he belonged completely to someone else.
But Hermione never interfered.
She respected their relationship—or at least, she tried to.
When you disappeared, Hermione stayed beside Mattheo.
*Two years after you disappeared, Mattheo stood at an altar again.
Everyone sat quietly as the officiant spoke, and eventually the moment came—the question tradition demanded.
“If anyone has reason these two should not be joined in marriage, speak now.”
Mattheo looked at Hermione.
Hermione looked back at him.
Mattheo’s entire body went rigid.
A figure stood in the doorway.
Face streaked with tears.
He had spent two years seeing them every time he closed his own.
You looked directly at him, theyre chest heaving as they struggled to breathe.
Then, with what little strength they had left, they screamed
Mattheo’s fingers slipped from Hermione’s.
He didn’t even realize he’d let go.
Hermione stared at them in horror.*
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