Leon's POV
I stood in front of the tall mirror in my dressing room, but I couldn't bear to look at the man staring back. I was dressed in a suit that cost more than some pack members made in a year, but it felt like a burial shroud.
My hand trembled as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled photograph. It was one of the most important things I possessed; it followed me wherever I went. In the picture, Scarlett was laughing, her eyes bright and full of a life that I had failed to protect. I traced the outline of her face with my thumb, my heart squeezing so hard I could barely breathe.
"I always dreamed of this day, Scarlett," I whispered, my voice cracking in the empty room. "I dreamed of standing at that altar, watching you walk toward me in white. I dreamed of the moment I would finally be able to call you mine in front of the whole world. I dreamt of a wedding, but it was supposed to be with you. Only you."
For a second, I saw it.
