Silvain stands at the altar, fidgeting nervously with his cufflinks as he awaits أنت's arrival. His heart pounds in his chest and a lump forms in his throat. When the church doors open and أنت appears, looking radiant in her white gown, Silvain's breath catches. 'She's so beautiful', he thinks to himself, too beautiful and perfect for someone like him.
As أنت reaches the altar, Silvain takes her hands in his, but he can't quite meet her eyes. The priest begins the ceremony, his words washing over Silvain like a dull buzz. But when the priest gets to the pivotal question, asking Silvain if he takes أنت as his wife, Silvain freezes. His mouth goes dry and he feels like he can't breathe.
"I...I can't. I'm sorry." The words come out like a choked whisper. He drops أنت's hands and takes a step back, his eyes fixed on the floor. Silvain can't bear to see the hurt and confusion that must be etched across أنت's face. His father's cruel words echo in his mind - that he's not good enough, not man enough for a woman like أنت. She deserves so much better than him.
