And illusion, no matter how romantic, is a terrible foundation for love.
Real love had to start after.
After the secrets.
After the humiliation.
After the truth dragged everything into brighter light than either of you wanted.
That is what people never understand when they judge love from outside. They think the test is whether two people desire each other enough to withstand gossip. It isn’t. Gossip is easy. Youth is easy. Even scandal can be survived on adrenaline and pride.
The real test is whether love can live after revelation.
Whether it can stay when the story gets uglier, stranger, less flattering, less cinematic.
Whether two people can look at the wreckage of what they thought they were building and still say, not blindly but with full knowledge, let’s build anyway.
You and Celia did.
Not perfectly.
Not innocently.
But truly.
And that truth, the one that nearly brought you to your knees on your wedding night, turned out to be the same truth that taught you how to stand.
THE END
