I stood, waiting for my cue.

I could feel the white material, rustling softly whenever I moved, resting on my body. Somehow, it felt insubstantial. Like a glance could tear it off, stain it, and discard it. I clung to the flowers, white roses and light pink lilies, as if they were a shield.

Mayu gave me a wink and a grin, and started down the aisle, dressed in the pink dress I had chosen, hoping it would compliment her tall, slender figure. I had made her take down her hair, and had it curled. She looked like the woman she was born to be.

And what about me? This was my special day, the day I was supposed to feel buoyed by love, dancing on a cloud, head among the stars…the day I was supposed to fall in love with him all over again.

There was supposed to be a certain magic in this day, a charge in the air I had never felt before. Yet I felt no magic. I only felt an imitation of one.

I felt as if I had known a deeper, more bittersweet magic. One that tore apart lives, lovers and hopes. It was confusing. I had never known such magic. Where could I have?

The only remaining shred of my rational mind recognized the music, and moved slowly, to the beat, smiling shyly, the veil swaying, tickling my cheek. I raised my eyes from the bouquet to the man standing, waiting for me. A surge of heat overcame me, coloring my cheeks. I was so deeply in love with him.

A rare moment of rebellion overtook me, dragging me deeply inside some darkness. The contrast between the moment of love and guilt was so startling I stumbled down the aisle.

I felt some knowledge boiling up from the center of my being, the black feelings stirring in the bottom of my heart. I was torn between letting the knowledge blossom, knowing what I had wanted to forget, and shoving it back into the bottom of my soul, refusing it to let it stain this perfect day, this perfect moment.

Before I could make my decision, a hand came down and heaved it down, burying it under shallower secrets. In the terrible moment before that hand came down, I knew why this man I was pledging myself didn't feel like my truest love.

Because I had known truer, soul-touching love.

Because I had to leave the man I had wanted to live the rest of my life with.

I was at the altar now, looking into the eyes of the man I had wrongly decided to promise my life and soul to. In that moment, I had wanted to flee back down the aisle, and seek out my old employer and distant relative.

But this man, the one I had thought I had loved, didn't deserve that. He loved me, even if I no longer reciprocated that feeling. I couldn't do that to him. And the memory of my truest love faded back down into me, and I forgot about him.

My fiancée smiled at me, and the preacher said the words I was waiting for.

My voice, loud and clear: "I do."