The morning sky was like a freshly cleaned canvas. A pale blue stretched wide above the yard of Saraswati's mother's house, adorned with jasmine and wild roses. There was no grand celebration—just a simple ceremony, sincere and full of meaning.
Saraswati wore an ivory kebaya, sitting calmly before the officiant. Beside her, Boase looked serene, a gentle smile gracing his face.
Amara, perched on her grandmother's lap, watched with sparkling eyes, as if she knew this day would stay in her heart forever.
"The vows have been exchanged," said the officiant, his voice firm yet kind. A soft cheer rose among the guests, smiles blooming like flowers. Saraswati's eyes welled up with gratitude.
But just as they began to rise from their seats, a woman's voice sliced through the joyous atmosphere.
"Boase!"
It was sharp, like lightning splitting a clear sky. All heads turned.
At the gate stood a young woman in a black dress, her eyes burning beneath dark sunglasses. Rage clung to her like perfume—impossible to miss.
Boase turned pale. His face tightened.
Saraswati frowned. She had never seen this woman before, but a strong sense of dread rushed through her.
"What do you mean getting married to this woman after everything you did to me?" the woman shouted as she stepped forward, ignoring the stunned guests.
"Did you think I'd stay silent after all the promises you shattered?"
Murmurs spread among the guests. Saraswati looked at Boase, waiting for his response.
He drew a long breath. "That's… Anita. A part of my past I never got the chance to explain."
Anita laughed bitterly. "Didn't get the chance? Or never intended to? You didn't even tell me you were getting married!"
"Because I no longer have any obligation to you, Anita!" Boase replied, his voice rising.
Anita's gaze shifted to Saraswati. "Did you know I was pregnant when he walked out of my life? And now, here he is, exchanging vows like nothing ever happened?"
Saraswati gasped. The world seemed to hold its breath.
A soft sob broke the silence—Amara. She ran to Saraswati, clinging tightly, scared.
Boase stepped forward, pain etched into his face. "Anita, we've talked about this. That child… I'm not who you're looking for. I took the test. You know that. But you kept spreading stories. And now you show up here, trying to ruin something that was never yours to begin with."
Anita froze. "So all of this... was for nothing?"
Boase lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry. But I can't let my life be held hostage by the past."
Saraswati held Amara's hand tightly and turned to Anita—not with anger, but with a calmness forged from long-healed wounds.
"If you came seeking justice," she said softly, "this isn't the way. But if you came out of pain, I hope someday you, too, will heal. Just as I've learned to forgive my own past."
Anita stood in silence. No one spoke. Then slowly, she turned and walked away—her steps still heavy with emotion, but no longer shattering the peace.
***
That afternoon, though clouds had threatened, the wedding continued.
Not with wide smiles, but with a depth that was far more real.
Saraswati and Boase sat together under a flamboyant tree.
"Maybe this is a sign," Saraswati said, "that our marriage begins with truth, not illusion."
Boase looked at her, overcome. "I don't deserve you. But I'll spend my life proving I can love you the right way."
Saraswati nodded. In the chaos of the day, she didn't run.
Because this time, she knew who she was.
And she chose to stay.