03
At last, the long ceremony came to an end.
The door to the lounge swung open, and there stood Andrew, looking worn out.
He rubbed his temples, a sign that the weight of the day was pressing down on him, too.
“I’ll make it up to you, Evelina. I’ll go talk to Mom and Dad and explain everything…” he started, but I cut him off.
“No need. They’re my parents, not yours. This isn’t your concern.”
He looked taken aback as if I had slapped him.
Andrew’s face was etched with fatigue. “Don’t say things out of anger. You know how hard this is for Amelia too. What’s the harm in giving her this one thing?”
Even now, he still believed he was in the right, still defending Amelia.
I found myself at a loss for words.
“Fine, think what you want. I’ll be packing my things and moving out today. I’ll have someone sell the wedding house. If you don’t want to sell it, just transfer my share into my account.”
With that, I glanced over and spotted my parents standing not far away, their faces a mixture of concern and confusion.
I tossed a quick “That’s it” over my shoulder as I hurried to join them.
A crowd of relatives surrounded my parents, and as I approached, I overheard one of them say, “So she got dumped, huh?”
My second aunt chimed in, “Girls like her are too strong–willed. Changing the bride on the wedding day? What a disgrace!”
I pushed my way through to my parents, feeling a pang of pain at the awkwardness etched on their faces.
I snapped back, “Are you my aunt or Andrew’s? His switching bride shows his irresponsibility and lack of integrity. Him not consulting me is just plain disrespectful. My personality has nothing to do with it! If I had known this would happen, he wouldn’t have been the groom today!”
My aunt huffed in indignation, muttering under her breath as she walked away.
My mom took my hand, worry evident in her eyes.
I tried to comfort her, saying, “It’s fine. If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. I’m not exactly heartbroken over it.”
After seeing them off in a cab, I went back to the wedding house alone to gather my things.
I had spoken my mind clearly, and my head was surprisingly clear.
But my emotions? They were another story.
Tears streamed down my face, seemingly unbidden.
This was the home Andrew and I had decorated together.
Everywhere I looked, I saw traces of him.
The little pot in the kitchen was something he bought after he learned I suffered from painful periods, claiming he’d make me nourishing soup every week.
The walk–in closet was his design, inspired by the Ferris wheel I’d liked in a short video.
When it was finished, I’d teased him about the over–the–top fairy lights, and he’d wrapped his arms around my waist, asking for a reward.
I had met Andrew in college, and we had spent a year apart due to work.
He had put in a lot of effort to win me over during that time.
When he confessed his feelings, he said he admired how I held my own in debate competitions.
Back then, I felt like I was shining in his eyes.
But now, he called me too bossy.
The very light that once sparkled in his gaze had become a source of pain for him.
I methodically packed up my belongings, slowly detaching myself from the memories.
When I finally finished, I realized that our seven years together fit into a box barely taller than my waist.
As I stood there, frustrated about how to get rid of this box, the door swung open.
My best friend, Ophelia Caldwell, burst in like a whirlwind.
The moment I saw her, the facade of strength I’d been maintaining crumbled.
My nose tingled with the impending tears.
Ophelia wrapped me in a tight embrace, squeezing me hard. “I should’ve been your maid of honof! You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.”
She had despised Andrew for a long time, disapproving of his indecision and his lingering attachment to his ex.
She’d even gone so far as to skip my wedding, claiming I’d regret marrying him.
Ophelia had said, “As long as Amelia is alive, you’re fine. But if she dies? How could you compete with a ghost?” That had driven a wedge between us.
But now!
But now, looking at her, I felt grateful to have a friend like her back in my life.
With Ophelia around, things didn’t seem quite so bleak.
She had specifically arranged a business trip to avoid my wedding, but as soon as she landed and heard what happened, she rushed over, fearing I’d be alone and crying.
Ophelia even took a vacation to stay with me, and that gesture touched me deeply.
As she busied herself with plans to set me up on dates, I heard a knock at the door.
It was Andrew.
I scoffed, thinking, “The nerve of him showing up. I should really slam the door in his face!”
