Finally, Monday of the first week of April dawned with mild weather.
Soft, ancient light filtered through the church's high windows, bathing Kirana Manalo in a heavenly glow. Her white bridal gown seemed to shimmer with its own ethereal light. The air was thick with the scent of flowers and the gentle strains of music. On her father Manalo's arm, she walked down the aisle, a vision of pure joy. In the front row, her mother watched, tears of overwhelming happiness spilling from her eyes. 👰🏻
Beside her mother sat her elder sister, Anisa, with her fiancé, Hasan. His hand rested conspicuously close to hers on the pew. To the congregation, they appeared as the perfect supporting pair, radiating shared happiness for the bride. Only Hasan knew the smile on his face was a meticulously crafted mask, part of the performance he was staging for the world and for the wealth that stood just beyond Anisa's hand. 🤝
Amidst this tableau of familial joy sat Yusuf's elder brother, Yugh. His outward composure was a fragile shell. As he watched Anisa lean in to whisper something to Hasan, a smile gracing her lips, a sharp, inexplicable pain lanced through his chest. He saw her happiness, genuine in its ignorance, and it felt like a loss.
She looks happy. That's good, he tried to reassure himself. But the thought rang hollow, only amplifying the strange ache within him. Every glance he stole towards her,the way she nodded at something Hasan said, the casual intimacy of their proximity,stirred a turmoil of emotions he couldn't name: a futile jealousy, a protective urge, and a profound sense of longing he was powerless to quell. 😖
At the altar, Kirana and Yusuf exchanged their vows, promising a lifetime of love and fidelity. The ceremony culminated in the exchange of rings and a kiss that filled the church with a collective sigh of joy, followed by the happy applause and cheers of friends and family.
In that unified moment of celebration, Yugh's eyes found Anisa once more. She was clapping, her face alight with a sister's genuine delight. He watched her, and the question echoed silently in the chambers of his own conflicted heart: If she is happy, why does witnessing it feel like my own heart is breaking? 😥