I Thought My Fiancé Had Died—Then I Saw Him Standing at His Own Wedding

For three months, I had been living with grief.

Every time someone told me, “I’m so sorry for your loss,” I nodded politely, even though a part of me still couldn’t accept that Adrian was gone.

I had cried at his funeral.

I had stood beside his family while they mourned him.

I had tried to continue working, even when ordinary things reminded me of him.

Then, one afternoon, everything I believed about those three months changed.

Because Adrian wasn’t dead.

He was upstairs.

Alive.

And apparently, he was getting married.

I stood inside the reception hall surrounded by hundreds of white flowers, trying to understand what I was seeing.

Earlier that day, I had been hired to arrange the floral decorations for the wedding. I had no idea whose wedding it was.

Then I recognized the name.

Adrian.

My Adrian.

The man I had been told was dead.