I used to hate him. He was always pissing me off. Then that day came. I remember. He stood in front of me, holding out a flower. Not a rose, as romantic as everyone says roses are, he knew I hated roses. Instead he held out a lily. And then he asked me if we could ever be together.
And it hurt me, because in that one moment, when I realized that somewhere along the line I had fallen for him, even though he tried to hurt me using harsh words, and had so many masks that he used to hide his true feelings, even though his father was a right asshole, and he had made fun of me so often, even though he was everything I should hate, I had fallen so freaking hard for him, I had to turn him down, because I had to marry her.
She didn't know my favorite flower, like he did. When I had suggested lilies, she had shaken her head, because they weren't romantic enough. Now, I stand at the altar, and I know the truth, I can not marry her. Even if I can never be with him, I could never marry her.