I didn't remember leaving the restaurant. One moment I was staring at my reflection, and the next I was walking—no, running—through the darkening streets. I didn't even grab my jacket. The promise ring sat abandoned on the bathroom counter, like a snake that had finally shed its skin.

My feet carried me to the cemetery on instinct. The iron gates creaked as I pushed through them, the sound echoing in the empty space. This place had become more home to me than anywhere else lately.

The tears started somewhere between the Wilson family plot and the old oak tree. At first just silent drops, then quiet sobs that shook my shoulders. I hadn't cried like this since I was a kid. All the pressure, all the pretending, all the perfect smiles—it all came flooding out.

"I can't do it anymore," I whispered to the gravestones. "I can't keep pretending."

My phone had been buzzing continuously in my pocket. Sarah, her parents, probably even her sister. I couldn't bear to look at it. Instead, I walked deeper into the cemetery, letting the familiar paths blur through my tears.

The weight of disappointing everyone crushed down on me. Sarah's broken heart. Her parents' disappointment. The whispers and judgment that would follow. Five years of relationship, gone. A future everyone had planned out for me, up in smoke.

"BOO!"

Small arms wrapped around me from behind, and I didn't even flinch. I knew those arms. That cherry blossom scent. I turned around, not even trying to hide my tears anymore.

Eli stood there in a half-buttoned wedding dress, mascara streaked down her cheeks. She'd been crying too.

"You look ridiculous," I said, my voice breaking on a laugh-sob.

"You should see the veil. I left it hanging on a tree somewhere between here and the bridal shop." She wiped at her cheeks, smearing the mascara more. "I couldn't breathe in there, Tris. They were all talking about the perfect day, the perfect life, the perfect future, and I just... ran."

"I left the promise ring in the restaurant bathroom," I confessed. "Sarah's birthday party... everyone was waiting for me to propose. Her dad kept winking at me. I couldn't... I couldn't..."

"I know." She stepped closer, and I saw she'd been running too—her hair wild, her bare feet dirty. "I know exactly what you mean. They're probably still at the shop, wondering where the bride went."

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We stood there in the growing darkness, two people who'd just blown up their lives, surrounded by the quiet understanding of the dead.

"My phone won't stop buzzing," I said.

"Mine's in my purse. Which is... somewhere. I think I left it at the shop too." She looked down at the wedding dress. "Along with my dignity, apparently."

"You still look beautiful," I said without thinking. Because she did—mascara-stained and disheveled and real in a way that the perfect party decorations could never be.

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. "Why did we wait so long to walk away?"

"Because we were trying to be what everyone else wanted." I reached out and wiped a tear from her cheek, leaving another mascara smudge. "Because we thought that was what we were supposed to do."

"Your mom was right," she whispered. "About the universe making introductions."

We stood there in the cemetery, crying and laughing and understanding each other completely. No masks, no pretending, no perfect smiles. Just us, exactly as we were.

We ended up sitting on a low stone wall, our shoulders touching. Eli had wrapped her arms around herself, shivering slightly in the wedding dress. Without a word, I pulled off my blue shirt—the one that matched Sarah's dress—and draped it over her shoulders, leaving myself in just a t-shirt.

"What happens now?" I asked, staring at the darkened gravestones. "We can't go back."

"No," she agreed softly. "We can't."

A warm breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the faint scent of rain. Not storm-rain like yesterday, but something gentler. Cleansing.

"We could run away," she said suddenly. "Just... leave. Start over somewhere new."

I turned to look at her. In the fading light, with my too-big shirt over her half-worn wedding dress, she looked both vulnerable and powerful. Like a goddess deciding whether to keep her divinity or trade it all for something real.

"Is that even possible?" My voice was barely a whisper. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. Everywhere." She turned to face me fully. "We could figure it out together. Your mom would understand—I think she already does. We could..."

She trailed off, but I heard the unspoken words. We could be ourselves. We could be free. We could be real.

"They'll look for us," I said, but it wasn't really a protest.

"Let them look." She stood up, my shirt sliding off one shoulder. "Tris... when was the last time you did something because you wanted to, not because it was expected?"

I thought about all my careful choices, all the times I'd chosen safety over truth. The girlfriend who matched my resume but not my soul. The life that looked perfect in photographs but felt hollow inside.

"What about money? Jobs? All the practical things?"

"We'll figure it out." She held out her hand to me. "The real question is... is there anything, or anyone, you would risk it all for?"

The cemetery fell silent, as if every spirit there was holding its breath. The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. With possibility. With terror and hope and something that felt ancient and new all at once.

I looked at her hand, still extended toward me. At the empty ring finger that matched my own. At the face I somehow knew better than anyone's, despite meeting her just days ago.

The answer came from somewhere deeper than thought, deeper than reason, deeper than fear.

It was love. I took her hand.

"You."