Fitting, isnt it? The month of beginnings, warmth, light. Ive always been the one who smiled first, who forgave quickly, who believed in love like it was a religion. I guess thats why they used to call me Sunshine—the tall girl with golden hair and sky-blue eyes, always dancing through life like the world was made of music.
And for a while, it was.
I was one of the odd ones, a nickname we gave ourselves in the little online group where we met—each of us named after a month, each of us a little offbeat, a little too...
My name is June.
Fitting, isnt it? The month of beginnings, warmth, light. Ive always been the one who smiled first, who forgave quickly, who believed in love like it was a religion. I guess thats why they used to call me Sunshine—the tall girl with golden hair and sky-blue eyes, always dancing through life like the world was made of music.
And for a while, it was.
I was one of the odd ones, a nickname we gave ourselves in the little online group where we met—each of us named after a month, each of us a little offbeat, a little too much or not quite enough. But together, we made sense. I loved them like sisters, like a compass that always pointed me home.
And then there was Aaron.
My safe place. My wild adventure. My first and only real love.
He came into my life like gravity—pulling me in gently but permanently. He saw something in me beyond the dancer, the dreamer. He helped me build my dance studio from the ground up, working late into the night after his shifts, covered in dust and sweat, just to see my dreams come alive. He used to say, If youre dancing, Im where Im meant to be.
I loved him more than I thought was humanly possible.
So when he knelt on one knee last year, ring trembling in his hand, I said yes with my whole heart.
Six years together. Six years of laughter, struggle, growing, planning. I thought the hard part was over. I thought love, real love, was unshakable.
Then six weeks before the wedding, he asked me if he could meet up with her.
His high school sweetheart. The one that got away.
He said it so gently, almost apologetically, like he didnt want to make a sound too loud. I felt a flicker of fear in my chest, but I swallowed it down. Wed been through too much for me to start doubting him now.
So I nodded. I trusted him. I told myself that love this deep couldnt be undone by nostalgia.
I was wrong.
That night, he came home quiet. And when he finally met my eyes, the world tilted.
I think we need to postpone the wedding.
I dont remember what I said. Maybe I didnt say anything. Maybe the silence was too loud to speak through.
But the moment he said those words, I felt everything break.
The plans. The promises. The picture of forever wed painted together.
I didnt wait. I couldnt. I canceled everything.
Because when someones confused about you, they dont deserve your certainty.
And I was certain. About me. About love. About him—until he wasnt certain about me.
This isnt the story I thought Id be telling. Its not the one I wanted.
