I blinked, slowly refocusing on Nadia's piercing gaze. "What were you daydreaming about?" she asked, her curiosity palpable. I resisted the urge to reveal the turmoil within. "It's nothing." Her eyes widened briefly, registering my evasion. "It's about to start," she reminded me. I exhaled slowly. "I think I'll stay." "What?" Surprise colored her voice. "You're not going?" I took a drag from my vape pen. "No, not this time." Nadia looked radiant as always. Her fuchsia dress, the soft fabric setting off her flawless olive complexion and hazel eyes, which reflected the sunset. A colorful scrunchy held back her hair, framing her beautiful face. She studied me briefly before exhaling heavily, clearly holding back something she wanted to say. My mind was elsewhere, caught up in thoughts as I stared into the distance, contemplating the fiery horizon. The rhythmic crash of waves against the sea wall punctuated the silence. Nearby, a child's laughter mingled with the wind, drawing my attention briefly. Returning my gaze skyward, I closed my eyes and inhaled the salty air. "Ugh, that stench," Nadia interjected, disrupting my reverie. I sighed inwardly, wishing for silence as she launched into another lecture. "And these things still cause lung cancer, you know?" "Not that I recall," I muttered, my eyes rolling. She finally relented, settling beside me on the concrete steps. She leaned her head on my shoulder as we gazed silently toward the horizon, the sunset casting a golden glow over the scene. "Seven years," she said softly. "Yeah," I managed. "I wish there was something I could do..." "I'm fine," I murmured, my throat tightening. Taking a sip of water, I fought to compose myself. "It's almost time... you should go."

Nadia nodded but didn't move, leaning against me as if unwilling to leave.

"You look stunning today. It would be a shame to miss it," I said, attempting to shift the focus.

"Thank you," she replied playfully, glancing up at me. "Seriously," I said. "You'd outshine everyone." "Especially Janine," she quipped, and we briefly laughed. "But really, as Maid of Honor..."

"Says the Best Man!" she interjected with a teasing tone.

I felt my face tense involuntarily, and she caught my expression before I could mask it.

"This situation sucks," she continued, attempting to console me.

"Nady..." I began, my voice strained. She hugged me, her warmth a fleeting comfort. "Caden, I'm sorry," she whispered. "You should go," I said, my voice colder than intended. She sighed, turning away. I felt her gaze linger, heavy with unspoken words. Ignoring her, I clung to my pain, knowing it was preferable to the alternative. At that moment, there was nothing she could say to ease the ache in my chest.