The venue was perfect. Floor-to-ceiling windows. White roses everywhere. Three hundred people in their seats, dressed like they were attending something important. Which I guess they were. Or thought they were.

I stood in the bridal suite and looked at myself in the mirror one last time. The dress fit exactly right. Hair pinned back with small pearls. Makeup flawless. I looked like a bride. I looked happy.

Diana adjusted my veil. Her hands were gentle. Careful. "You ready?" she asked.

I nodded. I didn't trust my voice.

She squeezed my shoulder. Then she left to take her place. The door closed. I was alone.

I pressed my hand against my stomach. Still flat. No one could tell. The baby was there though. A secret I was carrying down the aisle along with everything else.

The coordinator knocked. "It's time, Miss Grant."

I walked to the double doors. Through the gap I could see everyone. Faces turned toward the front. Killian stood at the altar in his tuxedo. He looked good. He always looked good. That was never the problem.

The music started. Pachelbel's Canon. The doors opened.

I walked. One step. Another. The aisle felt longer than it had during rehearsal. My mother sat in the front row. She was crying. Smiling and crying at the same time. She looked so small in that chair. So fragile. But her eyes were bright. Happy.

I kept walking. Past rows of people I barely knew. Business associates. Killian's college friends. Distant cousins. All of them watching. All of them smiling.

I reached the altar. Killian took my hand. His palm was warm. Steady. He leaned close and whispered, "You look beautiful."

I said nothing.

The officiant began. I heard the words but didn't process them. Something about love. Commitment. Partnership. All the words people say when they're pretending marriage means something permanent.

Killian was looking at me. His expression was perfect. Tender. Devoted. Like he meant every second of this. Maybe he did. Maybe he really believed he could have both of us. That this was fine. That I would just accept it.

The officiant smiled. "And now, the vows. Killian, if you'll begin—"

The doors exploded open.

The sound was massive. Wood slamming against stone. Every head in the room turned.

Selena stood in the doorway. She was wearing white. A long white dress, fitted, expensive. Her hair was down. Perfect. She looked like a bride. She looked like she belonged here more than I did.

"KILLIAN!" Her voice cut through the room like a knife.

I felt Killian's hand go rigid in mine.

She walked down the aisle. Not fast. Not slow. Deliberate. Her heels clicked on the marble. Every eye followed her. No one moved. No one breathed.

She stopped ten feet from the altar. She looked at Killian. Just him. Like I wasn't even there.

"Killian," she said again. Softer this time. Her voice broke. "How could you?"

Then she crumpled. Just folded in on herself and collapsed onto the floor in a perfect heap of white fabric. Her hand reached toward him. Her eyes fluttered closed.

For one second, no one moved.

Then Killian dropped my hand.

He didn't look at me. Didn't say a word. He just let go and walked away. Down the steps. Across the space between us. He knelt beside her and lifted her head into his lap.

"Selena," he said. His voice was raw. Desperate. "Selena, I'm here."

I stood at the altar. My hand was still extended where his had been. I stared at the empty air.

The room erupted. Voices. Gasps. Someone shouted for a doctor. Chairs scraped. People surged forward. I heard my mother's voice—high, confused, calling my name.

Diana was suddenly beside me. "Aviana—"

The crowd pushed closer. Bodies everywhere. Someone's elbow caught my shoulder. I stumbled. Another shove from behind—harder. I felt myself falling forward. I tried to catch myself but my heel caught in the dress. I went down.

My abdomen hit the marble edge of the altar step.

The pain was instant. Blinding. White-hot and catastrophic. It radiated out from my stomach in waves that made my vision blur. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. I pressed my hand against my dress and felt something warm and wet spreading beneath my palm.

No. No no no.

"AVIANA!" Diana's voice. Distant. Panicked.

I tried to push myself up. My arms wouldn't hold me. The pain was everywhere now. Consuming. I looked down. Blood. Dark and spreading across the white silk.

Someone screamed. I think it was me.

I heard my mother. Her voice cutting through everything. "AVIANA! MY BABY—"

Then another sound. A crash. A thud. More screaming.

I turned my head. My mother was on the floor. Collapsed between the chairs. People were surrounding her. Someone was shouting about calling 911.

I tried to crawl toward her. I couldn't move. The pain was too much. Everything was red and white and noise.

Diana was beside me. Her hands on my shoulders. Her face pale. "Stay still. Don't move. Help is coming."

I looked past her. Killian was still on the floor with Selena. Still cradling her. He hadn't looked up. Hadn't noticed.

I closed my eyes. I felt the blood pooling beneath me. I felt everything inside me breaking apart. And I understood, with perfect clarity, that I had just lost everything.

The baby. My mother. My dignity. My future.

All of it. Gone.

In the distance, sirens.

The blood came fast. Too fast. I felt it before I saw it—warm and wrong, spreading across my thighs, soaking into the white silk. I pressed my hand against my stomach. The pain was still there. Sharp. Constant. But now there was something else. Something draining out of me that I couldn't stop.

Diana was screaming for help. Her voice sounded far away. I tried to focus on her face but everything kept blurring.

Then I heard it. A different scream. Higher. Desperate.

I turned my head. It took everything I had.

My mother was on the floor between the chairs. Her pale blue dress twisted around her legs. Her hand clutched at her chest. Her mouth was open but no sound came out. Just that awful gasping. Like she was trying to breathe through water.

"Mom," I whispered. The word barely made it past my lips.

People surrounded her. Someone was shouting about calling 911. Someone else was trying to lift her shoulders. Her eyes were wide. Searching. They found mine across the chaos.

I saw it happen. I saw the exact moment the light went out.

Her hand dropped. Her body went still. And I knew.

She was gone.

I tried to scream. Nothing came out. Just a choking sound. The pain in my abdomen was unbearable now. White-hot. Consuming. I felt something tear inside me. Something fundamental and irreversible.

The baby. Oh god. The baby.

Sirens. Closer now. Footsteps pounding. Paramedics rushed in with equipment. Two teams. One went to my mother. One came to me.

The man kneeling beside me had kind eyes. He pressed something against my abdomen. His hands moved fast. Efficient. "Stay with me," he said. "What's your name?"

I couldn't answer. I was staring past him. At my mother's body. At the paramedics working over her. Doing compressions. Trying. But I already knew. I had seen her leave.

"We need to move her now," someone said. Urgent. Clipped.

They lifted me onto a gurney. The movement sent another wave of pain through me so intense I couldn't breathe. The ceiling passed overhead. Lights. Faces. Diana running alongside. Her hand gripping mine.

"I'm coming with you," she said. Her voice was shaking. "I'm right here."

I tried to squeeze her hand. I don't know if I managed it.

They loaded me into the ambulance. The doors slammed shut. The siren started. Everything was noise and motion and pain.

I felt it happen in the ambulance. The final tearing. The emptiness that followed. I didn't need them to tell me. I knew.

The baby was gone.

I closed my eyes. I didn't open them again.

When I woke up, everything was white. White walls. White sheets. White light coming through a window I couldn't focus on. There was a beeping sound. Steady. Mechanical. It took me a long time to realize it was my own heartbeat.

I tried to move. Couldn't. There were tubes. IVs. Something clipped to my finger. My abdomen felt hollow. Carved out. Empty.

I turned my head. A man in a white coat sat in a chair beside the bed. He had gray hair. Tired eyes. He was watching me.

"Miss Grant," he said quietly. "I'm Dr. Howe. You're at Mount Sinai. You've been unconscious for four days."

Four days.

I tried to speak. My throat was too dry. He held a cup of water to my lips. I took a small sip. It hurt to swallow.

"My mother," I whispered.

His expression changed. Something careful settled over his features. "I'm very sorry," he said. "She passed away at the venue. Cardiac arrest. They tried to resuscitate her but—"

I stopped listening. The words didn't matter. I already knew.

I pressed my hand against my stomach. Flat. Empty.

"The baby?" My voice cracked.

He shook his head slowly. "I'm so sorry. You suffered a severe hemorrhage and—"

I closed my eyes. I didn't need to hear the rest.

Gone. Both of them. Gone.

"Where's Killian?" I asked. I don't know why. Maybe I wanted to see if he would even come. Maybe I wanted to know if he cared.

"He's been here," Dr. Howe said carefully. "He hasn't left the hospital since you were admitted. He's in the waiting room now. Would you like me to—"

"No." The word came out harder than I intended. "Not yet."

Dr. Howe nodded. He stood. "I'll be back to check on you in a few hours. Try to rest."

He left. The door closed. I was alone.

I stared at the white ceiling. I felt nothing. No tears. No rage. Just a vast, echoing emptiness where everything I loved used to be.

My mother died watching me get destroyed. My baby died because I fell. And Killian—

Killian had dropped my hand and walked away.

I pressed my palms against my eyes. I lay there in the white room with the white sheets and the steady beeping of machines keeping me alive. And I understood something with perfect, crystalline clarity.

I had lost everything.

But I was still here.

And that meant I could still choose what happened next.