Chapter 4

I woke up to the smell of lilies and clean linen. A soft light filtered through a large window. I was in a suit, a very nice suit, but it felt stiff and unfamiliar. My head had a dull ache, and a profound sense of confusion clouded my thoughts. Where was I? A man I didn't recognize was adjusting my tie.

"Just a few more minutes, Mr. Miller," the man said cheerfully. "You ready for the big day?"

Big day? I didn't know what he was talking about. I tried to access my memory, to find a reason for the suit and the strange location, but there was a huge, gaping hole. It was like trying to look at a photograph that had been burned away in the center. I knew my name was Ethan Miller. I knew I was an architect. But the last few days, maybe longer, were just... gone. There was a vague, persistent feeling that I was supposed to be somewhere important, doing something important.

"The wedding is about to start," the man added, mistaking my silence for nerves.

Wedding. The word echoed in the empty space in my head. My wedding? To whom? I couldn't picture a face. I couldn't remember a name. A wave of anxiety washed over me. I was being guided down a long hallway, toward the sound of soft organ music. People smiled at me, faces I didn't recognize. I was an actor in a play, and I had forgotten all my lines.

I was standing at an altar, a beautiful church filled with people. The scene was overwhelming. The scent of the flowers was cloying, almost sickening. I looked at the expectant faces in the pews, searching for a clue, for anyone I knew. Nothing.

Then, the music swelled. The doors at the back of the church opened. A woman in a white dress started walking down the aisle. She was beautiful, but she was a complete stranger to me. As she got closer, a fleeting image flashed in my mind-the same woman, her hair messy, laughing with another man in a kitchen. It was there for a second, a ghost of a memory, and then it was gone, leaving me more confused than before. Who was she? Why did the sight of her fill me with a sense of dread?

She reached the altar and took my hand. Her hand was cold. She smiled at me, a brilliant, practiced smile. I tried to smile back, but my face felt like a mask.

The priest began to speak, his voice a low drone. I wasn't listening. I was trying to piece together the fragments in my mind. The smell of her perfume, a mix of vanilla and something sharp, felt vaguely familiar, but not in a good way. It was connected to a feeling of pain and humiliation that had no source.

"If anyone has any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace."

The traditional words hung in the air. The church was silent.

And then, a voice from the back shouted, "I do."

Every head turned. Standing at the entrance was a young, handsome man with a defiant look on his face. He had a small, healing cut on his cheek. I didn't know who he was, but a jolt of raw, instinctual hatred shot through me.

It was Kyle.

"Vivian, don't do this," he said, walking down the aisle toward us. "Don't marry him. You love me. You told me so last night."

The guests gasped. A wave of murmurs and whispers spread through the church. The woman beside me, Vivian, stiffened. Her grip on my hand tightened.

She stared at Kyle, her face a storm of conflicting emotions. I could see the panic, the anger, but also... desire. She was torn. She looked from Kyle' s passionate, pleading face to my blank, confused one.

"Vivian," Kyle said, his voice softer now, more intimate. "Last night, you said he wouldn't even remember. You said he'd be standing here like a puppet and that it didn't matter. But it matters to me. Choose me."

The woman-Vivian-let go of my hand. The touch was gone, leaving my skin feeling cold. She took a half-step toward Kyle, her eyes locked on his. The choice was hanging in the air, a moment of pure, excruciating drama.

And then she made it.

She lifted the front of her expensive wedding dress and ran. She didn't look back at me. She ran down the aisle, right into Kyle's waiting arms. They embraced, a passionate, desperate kiss in front of everyone.

The church erupted in chaos. People were standing, shouting, pointing. But all I could feel was a profound sense of betrayal, even though I didn't understand why. I felt like I had been stabbed in the back by a stranger. She had abandoned me. At the altar. For another man.

The raw emotion of it all was too much for my already fragile mind. The throbbing in my head intensified. The room started to spin, the faces of the guests blurring into a whirlwind of color and sound. A wave of blackness rose up to meet me, and I collapsed onto the cold, hard floor of the church.