The fight began long before the vows.

At least, that’s how Emma remembered it as she sat at the reception, champagne glass trembling in her hand. The music was too loud, the laughter too sharp.

Earlier — or maybe later — she saw him slip the note into his pocket. A folded secret, carried like a blade.

And before any of it, years ago, she had whispered yes to his proposal under a rainstorm, thinking forever was a promise no one could break.

The wedding was beautiful. The truth was not.