In Gaza, where life persists between rubble and sirens, 26-year-old Saeed al-Saftawi dared to dream — not of escape or fortune, but of love, a modest home, and a life that resembled peace. Like many young Palestinians, he clung to hope with quiet defiance, choosing to build a future in a place where tomorrow is never promised.

He found joy in Shatha Ayeshan, a gentle woman who shared his vision of love amid ruin. Their marriage contract was set for Friday. Plans were in place. Even as airstrikes echoed overhead, Saeed told friends, “We can’t wait for the war to end… We have to live, even under war.”

But Gaza does not forgive happiness. Before dawn on Tuesday, an Israeli missile struck the al-Karama School in al-Tuffah, where Saeed was sheltering. When his brother and friends rushed to search for him beneath the debris, a second missile struck. None survived — not the groom, not the ones who came to save him.

What was meant to be a celebration turned into a burial. Shatha, the bride-to-be, was left with a dress no one would see and a grief that no words could soften. The wedding invitations became mourning notices. In Gaza, love tries to bloom — and is often buried in silence.