I was making the digital wedding invitation when my phone asked if I wanted to auto-select photos from the shared cloud album. I tapped Confirm. Thirty seconds later, the cover changed to a photo I didn't recognize. My fiancé, shirtless, was standing in front of a bathroom mirror. Behind him was a woman in his button-down shirt, her arms wrapped around his waist. The timestamp was the night my father died. That night, he'd said something came up at work, so he couldn't make it to the hospital. I stared at the screen, my fingers suddenly cold, but I didn't close the album. I kept scrolling. Hotels. Trips. Birthday cakes... Then I saw a medical document, half-covered by her hand. The hospital name showed in the bottom corner. It was the same hospital where my father spent his last days. The last clip was a video. She laughed and asked, "What do you think she'd do if she knew you come here every Wednesday?" Ethan Ford leaned down and kissed her forehead. "She won't find out. The wedding goes ahead. After that, I'll still be here with you." Later that night, he sent a message to the group chat, reminding me to get to bed early. Ethan: Get some rest, bride-to-be. You need to look beautiful on the big day. Ellie: Okay. Then I swapped the invitation cover to the bathroom photo and set it to auto-update at nine a.m. on the wedding day. I messaged the wedding planner. Ellie: Keep everything as planned. I was going to make sure this was a wedding they'd never forget.