Today, My Wedding

Today, My Wedding

by Jaewon

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The morning light filtered through the curtains of the hotel suite, soft and golden. I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my tie for the third time, hands slightly shaky. Today was the day. After four years together, countless secret dates, stolen moments between her shoots and my work, Ahn Hayoung was finally going to be my wife.

A knock on the door pulled me out of my thoughts. My best friend, Minho, poked his head in with a grin. “You ready, groom? Or are you still practicing that tie like it’s a dance move?”

I laughed, grateful for the distraction. “Just making sure I don’t look like an idiot in front of her family. She already teases me enough about my fashion sense.”

Minho stepped inside, carrying two cups of coffee. “She loves you exactly as you are. Even if your tie is crooked. Here, drink this. You look like you haven’t slept.”

I took the cup, the warmth grounding me. “I couldn’t. Kept thinking about that first time we met on set. Remember? I was just a random crew guy fixing lights, and she smiled at me like I was the only person in the room.”

Minho clapped my shoulder. “And now you’re marrying her. Life’s weird like that.”

We talked for a while about old memories — the time Hayoung tried teaching me one of her choreography moves and we both ended up on the floor laughing, the late-night drives where she’d sing along to the radio with the windows down, the way she’d fall asleep on my chest after long filming days, whispering that I was her safe place. Every story made my chest feel fuller.

A text from her lit up my phone. *Can’t wait to see you at the altar. I love you more than yesterday.*

I smiled like an idiot and replied quickly. *I love you more than always. See you soon, future Mrs.*

---

The venue was beautiful — white flowers everywhere, soft music playing as guests arrived. I stood at the front near the altar, heart pounding as the ceremony time approached. Hayoung’s manager had kept her hidden all morning for tradition, but I caught glimpses of her bridesmaids rushing around, giggling about how stunning she looked.

One of them, her close friend from the industry, came over with a bright smile. “She’s almost ready. Keeps saying she can’t believe this is real. You two are going to make everyone cry during the vows.”

I laughed, nerves mixing with pure joy. “As long as I don’t trip walking back down the aisle.”

The music shifted, signaling the start. Guests settled in their seats. My hands felt clammy as I waited. This was it. The moment I had dreamed about since the day she said yes.

The bridesmaids walked down first, beautiful in their dresses. Then the flower girl — Hayoung’s little niece — scattering petals with a serious expression that made everyone smile. Finally, the music swelled into the wedding march.

And there she was.

Hayoung appeared at the end of the aisle on her father’s arm. She looked like a dream in her white gown, elegant and glowing, veil framing her face. My breath caught. She was walking toward me. Toward our future.

I smiled so wide my cheeks hurt, eyes locked on her. She looked at me too, but something in her expression felt… off. Not the joyful nervousness I expected. There was a sadness there, hidden behind the perfect makeup.

She took slow steps, father steady beside her. Flashbacks hit me as she walked — our first real date at that small café where she stole my drink and laughed when I pretended to be mad. The night she stayed over after a tough shoot, curled in my arms whispering that I made the world feel quieter. The proposal on the beach last year, where she cried happy tears and said yes before I even finished the question.

She was almost at the altar now. Her father kissed her cheek and placed her hand in… someone else’s.

Wait.

My brain stuttered. The man standing beside me at the altar wasn’t the officiant waiting for her. It was another man. Tall, handsome, dressed in a matching groom’s suit. Someone I vaguely recognized from her industry events — an actor she had worked with recently.

The guests stood. The music continued. Hayoung looked at me for one long, heartbreaking second, eyes filled with pain and apology, before turning to the man beside her.

No.

This wasn’t our wedding.

This was hers.

To him.

---

The world tilted. I stood frozen in the front row where I had been seated as a “close friend.” The realization crashed over me like ice water. The preparations I thought were for us — the venue booking she had “surprised” me with, the dress fittings she mentioned casually, the way she had asked me to help with guest lists but never let me see the final one.

All of it had been for this.

Flashback after flashback hit me as she stood at the altar with him.

The late nights when she came home exhausted and held me a little tighter than usual. The way she sometimes cried after phone calls with her agency. The quiet arguments where she said the industry demanded sacrifices, and I told her we could face anything together.

She had tried to tell me. In small ways. The hesitation when I talked about our future. The way she’d change the subject when marriage came up directly. The tears in her eyes the night she said yes to my proposal — not from joy, but from guilt.

Her agency had arranged this. A high-profile marriage to boost both their images. A business decision wrapped in white lace and flowers. She had fought it at first. I remembered her coming home one night months ago, shaking, saying she didn’t know how to choose between her career and us. I had told her we’d find a way. That love was worth more than any contract.

But the pressure had been too much. The threats of damaged reputation, lost endorsements, ruined opportunities for her group and acting career. She had chosen the path that kept her family and team safe.

And I had been the secret she couldn’t keep.

---

The ceremony continued. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe properly. Hayoung’s voice was steady as she said her vows to him, but I saw the tears she tried to hide. When the officiant asked if anyone objected, the silence in the hall was deafening.

No one knew. Not her parents, not the guests, not even most of her close friends. Only a handful of people from her agency knew the truth. I was just another guest in the crowd, the boy she had loved in secret for years, now watching her marry someone else.

When they kissed, the applause was loud and joyful. Hayoung pulled away first, eyes searching the crowd for one second. They found mine. The pain in them was raw and devastating.

I’m sorry, her lips seemed to say.

I turned and walked out before the cheers could swallow me whole.

---

Outside, the sun was too bright. The flowers on the venue steps smelled too sweet. I sat on a bench near the parking lot, staring at nothing. My phone buzzed with messages from friends asking where I went. I didn’t answer.

Memories kept flooding in. The way she used to trace my jaw when she thought I was asleep. The silly arguments about who loved who more. The nights she’d sneak into my apartment after schedules, collapsing into my arms like I was her only safe harbor.

All of it had been real. I knew that in my bones. But real love wasn’t always enough when the world demanded something else.

A text came through from an unknown number. Her burner phone, the one she used only for us.

*I’m sorry. I love you. I always will. Please forgive me one day.*

I stared at the words until they blurred. Then I deleted the message, turned off my phone, and walked away from the venue without looking back.

Today was supposed to be my wedding day.

Instead, it became the day I lost her forever.

The pain didn’t fade as I drove home. It settled deep, heavy and permanent. Ahn Hayoung had been my everything. And today, in front of everyone, she became someone else’s wife.

Some stories don’t get happy endings. Some loves are meant to stay secret, hidden in memories and quiet heartbreaks.

And today, my wedding became the day my heart finally broke beyond repair.

(Not Always Hayoung Story are happy - Jaewon)