My best friend once told me she had a “surprise” planned for her wedding.

I laughed it off at first. But as time passed and she refused to tell me who she was marrying, something inside me started to feel… uneasy.

Wren and I had been inseparable for over a decade. We told each other everything—or at least I believed we did. So when she got engaged but kept her fiancé’s identity a secret, I didn’t know what to think.

“It’s a surprise,” she said, smiling. “I want to see your reaction.”

Weeks turned into months. No photos. No introductions. Just that same mysterious grin every time I asked.

Then, one week before the wedding, everything shifted.

We were hanging out at Leah’s place when Wren stepped outside to take a call. Leah leaned toward me and asked quietly, “You really don’t know it’s Callum?”

My heart dropped.

Callum—my ex-fiancé.

The man who had proposed to me… then vanished three weeks before our wedding.

What no one knew was that I had been pregnant when he left. I woke up alone in a hospital bed, grieving a child who never had the chance to live. He never explained. Never came back.

Back at Leah’s, I didn’t react. I just nodded, like it didn’t matter.

I didn’t call Wren. I didn’t confront him.

I decided to wait.

So I went to the wedding.

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