People always say your wedding day is supposed to be perfect.

Mine became unforgettable for a completely different reason.

Even now, 13 years later, I still remember every detail of that moment with painful clarity. The music. The crystal chandeliers. The scent of white roses filling the reception hall. The sound of guests laughing before everything suddenly shifted.

Back then, I was 26 and completely convinced I had found the love of my life.

I met Ed in a tiny coffee shop downtown where I used to spend my lunch breaks hiding from the stress of my marketing job. Every day, he’d walk in wearing the same crooked smile and order the same caramel latte.

At first, he only watched me from across the room.

Then he started trying to guess my order before I reached the counter.

“Vanilla chai with extra foam?” he’d ask confidently.

Wrong every single time.

Until one afternoon, he finally got it right.

“Iced coffee, two sugars, splash of cream,” he announced proudly.

I laughed. “How did you know?”

“I’ve been studying you for weeks,” he admitted with a grin. “Can I buy it for you?”