MMA System: I Will Be Pound For Pound Goat

The music began soft and deliberate, each note stretching time.

Damon stood still at the altar, but inside, his heart beat hard enough that he could feel it in his neck.

His palms were dry, but only because he'd already wiped them on the inside of his jacket three times.

In the back, behind the last row of seated guests and hidden just out of view, Svetlana waited.

Her breath was shallow. She held her bouquet with both hands, and they trembled just slightly.

The layers of her dress felt heavier now than they had all morning. She wasn't cold, but her shoulders were stiff. The moment had caught up.

Victor stood beside her, dressed in a sharp, dark suit. His tie was already loosened a notch, but he hadn't lost an ounce of composure. He turned and reached out, gently placing his hands over hers. She looked up.

"You look amazing," he said quietly. "You've grown up. I'm proud of you."

Her eyes wavered, and her voice dropped. "I'm scared."

Victor didn't smile. He just nodded once. "That's normal. Big moments don't feel small. But you're not walking into something uncertain. You chose this."

Svetlana looked down, her grip tightening slightly. "I know. I just… I don't want to mess it up."

Victor leaned in a bit closer. "You won't. He knows who you are. You know who he is. That's all you need."

She took a deep breath. Then another. Her fingers stopped shaking as much. When she looked up again, her face was calm, not blank, just composed.

Victor offered his arm. "Ready?"

Svetlana nodded slowly and took it. The coordinator gave the signal. The music rose just slightly, shifting tone.

Back at the front, Damon heard it. He couldn't see them yet, but he knew what that change meant. His throat tightened, and his jaw locked to keep it from showing on his face.

Joey glanced at him, then looked straight ahead again.

A moment later, the first step hit the aisle. Every head turned.

Damon kept his head down at first, his eyes focused on the ground just ahead of him.

His chest rose and fell in steady, deliberate breaths. Every inhale was meant to keep him calm. Every exhale tried to stop the pressure building in his chest.

Joey leaned in, elbow bumping lightly against his arm. "Bro," he muttered.

Damon blinked and looked up.

His eyes locked on hers.

Svetlana walked slowly down the aisle, holding Victor's arm.

Her dress moved with each step, soft and precise.

The fabric shimmered slightly under the sunlight, catching just enough light to outline her shape without needing to do anything extra.

Her makeup was simple but perfect, highlighting everything about her that Damon already knew by heart.

But today it hit differently.

He swallowed once. Then again.

His hands moved behind his back, fingers laced to stop himself from fidgeting. But his right leg started tapping lightly, and no amount of control could settle it.

Svetlana wasn't just beautiful.

She looked unreal, like a living image pulled from a story no one believed was true. And the worst part was, she didn't look like she was trying. She just looked like herself. Calm. Composed. Radiant.

To Damon, she might as well have been the only person in the entire venue. He didn't even notice the people turning their heads, the whispered reactions, or even the shift in music as it reached its middle stretch.

All he could see was her walking toward him.

His eyes didn't leave hers.

And hers didn't leave his.

Damon's vision blurred, just slightly at first. He blinked, confused, then raised a hand to his face.

His fingertips came away damp.

He quickly pulled the handkerchief from his inside pocket and dabbed under his eyes, trying to keep it subtle, but the moment he touched his face, it only got worse.

The warmth behind his eyes spilled out faster than he expected. The more he wiped, the more it came.

He wasn't sobbing or shaking, just overwhelmed. His chest tightened, and for a moment he couldn't even pretend to play it cool.

Joey leaned in from the side. "Breathe, man," he whispered, voice low enough to not carry.

Damon gave a tight nod, but his hand stayed up, pressing the cloth against his eyes again.

Across the aisle, Svetlana had noticed. Her steps didn't falter, but her lips parted in a soft breath as she saw the tears. She had been steady a moment ago, focused, collected, but now her throat tightened.

Victor felt her grip change slightly.

She wasn't breaking, not yet, but she blinked a little more than before. Her smile trembled just at the corners.

The aisle never felt so long.

Svetlana reached the end of the aisle with measured steps, holding it together just long enough. Her lashes were damp, but no tears had fallen, not yet. Her fingers trembled slightly as Victor gave her hand one last squeeze.

Victor turned to her, gave her a final fatherly hug, then stepped toward Damon. He didn't hesitate, he offered a handshake, then pulled Damon into a solid hug.

"You're doing great, son," he said low and firm.

Damon nodded, but it nearly broke him again. Of all things to say, that had nearly sent him over. It wasn't just the words, it was the way Victor said them, like this moment mattered more than anything else. Damon whispered back, "Thank you," voice almost caught in his throat.

Victor patted his back and stepped away, taking his seat among the front row.

Then it was just Damon and Svetlana, standing before each other.

They didn't speak. They didn't have to.

Damon looked at her, really looked. The dress. The makeup. The hair. But none of that stood out more than the way she looked at him, like he was hers and always had been.

He had never once questioned being with her. But right now, standing here, he felt something deeper than certainty. He felt peace. A calm that didn't come from nerves settling, but from standing exactly where he was meant to be.

He had fought through a thousand battles in life. But this was the only one he wanted to stay in forever. This moment. Her.

He didn't just feel love. He felt like he was falling in love again, all over.