Sana takes small steps, bottom of her sole dragging to the door. Her hand hovers above the handle, still fretting. Maybe it wasn’t the right decision to come, but the door creaks open exposing her hesitant deliberation.  Sana’s just as shocked, as the person that now stares at her agape. “Sana,” Dahyun croons almost, depravation bordering on the last note. A voice so gentle and soft closes in seemingly harmless. They both know it’s been too long both partly to blame.

Sana takes a moment to savour the undivided attention, the aspiring instant that she had dreamed of many times over. “What are you doing, come over here” Dahyun buzzes, arms jittery ready to circle. So Sana hugs her, and the waft of jasmine floats from Dahyun’s hair. She breathes deep, the smell reminds her of their old apartment. She can still see it now, the rosy canopy filtering morning’s sun, the light wisp of fragrant breeze shying through the window.

“I didn’t think you’d show.”

Sana wants to say something to protest, to wittily joke back as she used to but her words are heavy, much too dense weighing on her tongue. The noise that escapes instead, is a cross between an awkward chortle and snort that barely passes as laughter, and so she shuts herself up mid-word. She can clearly see it now, her vulnerability pooling in the reflection of Dahyun’s eyes.

“You look beautiful.”

She’s never seen Dahyun like this before, clad in white fabric an inch too tight. Strapless ivory, complimenting the pale of her skin against brown tussles set around shoulders. Dresses were never Dahyun’s first choice of attire, but here she was adorning a garment that ran tapered intricacies and woven specks of glitter. Beauty is always described to be the colouring of life, but in this particular moment all Sana saw was the spectacle of white. The radiating glow of Dahyun’s skin, the betraying happiness curling at the edges of her lips. She’s happy. She’s truly happy.

“Thanks. I’m just so glad you made it. It means a lot.” Dahyun says, each word heavy with meaning, eyes prolonging a stare so intense imploring more than words could ever convey. Dahyun’s calling, she’s beckoning for the planted love that she abandoned. Her dark brown eyes knitting themselves into Sana’s, whose resistance is about to cave in. It was impossible for her to yield when it came to Dahyun. How ironic though a tempted temptress, putty in the hands of an innocuous Dahyun.

Life once again happens to disrupt their bubble, as Chaeyoung ushers in, tangling hands and bunched dress, "Everyone out, the bride needs to get ready."

"Hey Chae—,” Sana attempts to greet, arms stretching for a hug.

But Chaeyoung cuts her off, to fuss with the wrinkled tail of hefty frock that dragged across the ground. “We’ll talk later Sana. I've got a lot of things to do,” voice snarky and impatient the sort of tone that begged for eye rolls.

“Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” Sana mumbles disheartened trying not to take offence, eyes failing to suppress a glower.

A bemused expression quickly flusters Dahyun’s face as she gauges the light tension rising between the two. It was just like old times. To subdue the unrest, Dahyun hastily offers a knowing smile, reaching for both of their hands. She squeezes their hands in hers, and they squeeze back. And for some reason, the small action fixes everything. Sana slightly nods her head, and takes her cue to leave with Dahyun’s drawn smile floating at her lips.

Sana’s a sold fool, as she rejoins her plus one for the day. Back pressed against the wall, heart aching like never before, sinking beneath the frays coming unraveled like ribbon of lace. The repressed feelings, it pours out of her, down the carved valleys of her mapped soul injecting torrents that pinched her inside.

“So how is the bride?”

“She’s everything.” Sana gushes goodness tickling in her chest, as a reverberating pulse revives the magnetism that originally drew her to Dahyun.

“Everything?” Mina asks, baffled by the rare vagueness.

“Uh, beautiful. She just envisions everything you’d imagine a perfect bride to be.” She tries to explain, but it doesn’t even encompass half of what she feels.

“Oh of course. Good thing the conference meeting this month is in Korea.”

“Thank you again Mina, for agreeing to come and covering for me.”

“It’s quite alright. I’ve heard plenty about Dahyun to know how important she is to you. You’re quite obvious even when you try not to be.” A soft chuckle spills from her lips at Mina’s remark. Sana’s not too sure whether it’s out of embarrassment or sheer shame. But it definitely coaxes the obsidian of doubt that snags her inner conscience.

“Should we go in?”

They’re seated at last, and the groom enters, tucked in a suave bubble of confidence, adjusting the velvet tie laced around his neck. His face wears a plastered smile that reaches his ears. But in his eyes, gentleness, softness sets the manner of his composure a tone much too similar to Dahyun.

Sana doesn’t want to acknowledge it. She busies herself instead by admiring the mosaic panes of glass that colored the church in vibrant shades of beaming light. It’s not long before the familiar tune echoes signaling the entrance of the bride. The crowd rises to their feet, and Sana follows toppling slightly into Mina beside her. “Are you alright?” Mina mouth