Cheers and applause erupted from the audience below.
The sound rolled toward me, wrapped in the sweet scent of roses.
They cheered.
They offered their blessings.
Someone whistled.
The noise was sharp, shrill,
like countless fine needles.
They pierced my heart one after another,
yet no one noticed me, hidden in the corner.
The red carpet curved toward the stage.
Barry stood there.
His suit was crisp, immaculate.
Joy lay hidden in his brows and eyes.
He had finally married the woman he loved.
And me?
I clenched my hand beneath the hem of my dress,
my nails digging deep into my palm.
The sharp pain spread.
We had seven years of marriage.
Seven years of shared days and nights.
Promises he once swore with sincerity.
What were those now?
Disposable trash,
or stepping stones toward his new love?
“Brother.”
Keira suddenly turned around.
Her wedding gown flared in a perfect arc.
Her smile was radiant, blinding.
Her gaze locked precisely onto me in the corner.
“To be able to marry you,
the person I need to thank the most is Chloe.”
In an instant, the noise died.
Countless eyes converged on me.
Curious.
Probing.
Laced with faint mockery.
A sharp intake of breath rippled through the hall.
People exchanged glances, unsure
whether to be shocked by my so-called generosity
or unsettled by the pallor of my face.
The weight of their gazes pressed down on me,
so heavy I could barely breathe.
Barry followed those stares.
The moment he saw me, his smile froze.
Panic replaced it.
He abruptly lowered his head,
gritting his teeth as he questioned Keira,
his voice urgent, trembling.
The microphone captured everything,
broadcasting it clearly across the hall.
“You invited her?”
“Keira, what exactly are you trying to do?”
“Oh, nothing at all.”
Keira tilted her head,
smiling with a mix of innocence and cruelty.
“I just want to vow eternal love to you
under Chloe’s witness.”
Barry looked awkward, his brows tightly knit.
But he did not stop her.
“Chloe.”
Keira turned to me again.
Her voice was sweet enough to cloy.
“Did you hear the promise I made to my brother?”
“Please come up on stage
and witness us exchanging rings.”
The crowd erupted again, louder than before.
Whistles.
Table pounding.
Laughter.
A strange man shoved me from behind,
his voice rough and impatient.
“Hurry up and go!
Don’t ruin the newlyweds’ moment!”
I gripped the wheelchair, my knuckles whitening.
Using all my strength,
I forced myself to stand.
Agonizing pain tore through my stomach in an instant.
I doubled over, cold sweat soaking my back.
My vision darkened.
The noise around me blurred into nothing.
Clenching my teeth,
I slowly lifted my head.
I looked at Barry, standing at the center of the stage,
the man I had loved for seven years.
He once said he would protect me always.
Yet now, all I saw in his eyes
was his desperate wish for the wedding to proceed smoothly.
I steadied myself
and walked toward him, step by step.
Every step felt like walking on shattered glass.
Every step ground seven years of love into dust.
Finally, I stood before them.
The hem of my wedding dress brushed against my ankle,
cold against my skin.
Barry feared the wedding being ruined more than anything.
He hurried half a step forward,
lowered his voice, and pleaded.
“Chloe, I’m begging you.”
“Just endure today.”
“We still have many happy days ahead.”
I looked at him.
At the panic in his eyes.
At the shallow reassurance.
Suddenly, he felt like a stranger.
All that past tenderness and devotion
felt like nothing more than an illusion.
I smiled at him.
The smile was faint,
but filled with release.
“Barry.”
My voice was calm.
“There will be no ‘after’ for us.”
As the words fell,
the entire hall sank into silence.
I turned my head.
At the entrance of the hall,
a familiar figure stood there.
His gaze was deep, steady, fixed on me.
I gave him a small nod,
completing my final farewell.
The next second,
all my strength drained away.
I collapsed straight down.
As my consciousness sank into darkness,
I closed my eyes.
At the corner of my lips remained a faint, peaceful smile.
This time,I finally didn’t have to hold on anymore.
