«And now the bride will gift her business to the groom!» — the emcee announced at the mother-in-law’s request, but instead of the deed, I played the video and the mother-in-law had to flee through the back door…….

Annie, she began, but her voice broke. The emcee brought the microphone closer again, and now it almost touched her lips. The light became hot, her whole body felt like it was doused with heat.

The hall didn’t blink. Everyone watched. Anna took a step forward and took the microphone in her hand.

She didn’t know why herself. Not to speak. Just to hold something.

You know, she began quietly, sometimes surprises aren’t joy. Sometimes it’s an attempt to take what doesn’t belong to you. Tension stirred in the hall.

Someone stopped chewing, someone set down their glass. This business, she raised her gaze, isn’t part of the wedding script. And certainly not a gift.

The mother-in-law immediately leaned toward Ethan and whispered something. He tensed but stayed seated. As if waiting to see how the scene would end.

I’m not giving anything to anyone. Especially not by someone else’s script. Anna placed the microphone on the edge of the stage and walked away.

Slowly, without looking back. With each step, she heard the applause stop. How the hum of voices grew louder.

How the festive atmosphere shattered like glass falling on tile. Outside, it was quiet. Only rare cars rushed along the road, and the air still hung with the smell of flowers.

The bouquet, her wedding bouquet, remained on the chair. She wanted to go back and take it, not as a symbol, but simply because it was beautiful, with live eucalyptus branches that she had chosen herself. But her legs wouldn’t obey.

The phone in her purse vibrated. A message from Taylor. Where are you? What was that? Everything okay?

No. Not okay. But alive.

Real. She walked along the sidewalk in her wedding dress, holding her shoes in her hand.

Cars passed by, and no one honked. Someone probably thought it was a photoshoot. Or a movie.

But this was more real than anything that had happened to her in recent months. Inside, everything trembled like water in a glass placed on a loud speaker. But she walked.

One question swirled in her head: when did Ethan sign those documents? And why did she only find out at the wedding? She knew the answer but couldn’t accept it. Not yet. Not now.

Behind her remained the music, shouts, claps, fake laughter, and others’ expectations. Ahead was the unknown. No script.

No plan. Only the street, night, and herself. There was even something beautiful in that.

And in the cafe where it all began, her first small place, the light was on. The waitress in a white shirt wiped the tables, not knowing that the owner was heading there in a wedding dress to take back from herself what they tried to take away. And while in the hall where everything should have gone according to plan, other toasts were being made, she inserted the key into the familiar lock.

Click. The door opened. The story was just beginning.

The cafe smelled of cinnamon and caramel. Anna closed the door behind her and turned on the soft light. Everything was in its place: the display case with desserts, the wooden counter, the coffee machine, always finicky and loud.

She walked deeper into the hall, kicked off her shoes, and sat at her favorite table by the window. The dress rustled as she tucked her legs under her. Her hands trembled.

As if only now the realization came. Not just shock, but something deeper. Betrayal, covered in ribbons and roses.

On the wall hung an old photo: the first coffee shop, still in the basement. In the picture, Anna, tired, with a syrup stain on her apron, smiling with paper in hand. The first lease agreement.

She was 22 then, and no one believed she could do it. Except herself. That evening, when she signed that agreement, her father admitted for the first time that he was proud of her.

He stood silently behind her and said only, the main thing, don’t give away what’s yours. Not under pressure, not for love. She didn’t understand then how important that was.

Steps outside the door pulled her from her memory. Someone stopped. Anna held her breath.

Then a knock. Not strong, as if the person outside doubted whether to knock at all. Anna, Ethan’s voice, muffled.

Open up. Please. She didn’t move.

She looked at her reflection in the glass: red eyes, lips pressed. The spotlight no longer shone in her face, and no one waited for applause. She could just be herself.

I know you’re in there. I saw you come here. Silence.

We can’t leave it like this. Anna approached the door but didn’t open it. She just leaned her forehead against the cold glass.

Did you know? She asked, without raising her voice. About the documents. About the gift.

Pause. Then a step back. Apparently, he didn’t expect a direct question.

I. Yes. Mom said it was a formality. That you wouldn’t mind.

That you were planning to transfer it to us anyway. To us? Anna smirked, and there was something sharp in that laugh. Tell me honestly, did you ever ask if I wanted this? Anna, it’s just business.

We have a family now. Everything should be shared. This isn’t just business…