Evelyn decided that, in the final countdown of her life, she would leave herself with a proper photograph.
The standard ones provided by funeral homes felt too stiff. She didn't like them.
She chose a well-reviewed private studio and booked an afternoon session.
But the moment she walked in, she saw Adrian and Vanessa inside—right in the middle of their pre-wedding shoot.
"Sir, hold your wife by the waist—yes! Look at each other!" The photographer stood nearby with the camera, enthusiastically directing, "Good, hold that pose! Now lean in and kiss your wife's forehead! Yes—like she's the most precious thing in the world!"
Adrian followed the instruction, lowering his head and placing a gentle, careful kiss on Vanessa's smooth forehead.
It suddenly came back to Evelyn—before Vanessa woke up, she and Adrian had been happy too.
Every morning before leaving, he would do the same—pressing a kiss to her forehead or cheek.
When she was exhausted from taking care of Vanessa, barely able to straighten her back, he would look up massage techniques online and joke that he was her personal therapist.
At the time, Adrian's company was going through a critical phase before going public, and Vanessa's medical expenses were a heavy burden.
So she always carried a quiet regret—no wedding, no wedding dress. She would stop and linger every time she passed a bridal shop.
And Adrian would wrap his arms around her from behind and promise, with absolute certainty, "Give it two more years. Whether Vanessa recovers or not, I'll give you the grandest wedding."
But all that sweetness, all those promises, disappeared the moment Vanessa woke up.
In the past, a moment like this would have hurt her.
But standing here now, watching the two of them wrapped in their own world, she felt… nothing. Not even a ripple.
She turned quietly, ready to leave.
"Evelyn?" A soft, delicate voice called out from behind her.
Evelyn paused mid-step. The music and shutter clicks in the studio fell silent.
She turned back to see Vanessa still leaning against Adrian as she called out to her.
Panic and awkwardness flashed across Adrian's face. He quickly let go of Vanessa's waist and stepped forward. "What are you doing here?"
Evelyn lifted her phone slightly. The confirmation message for her booking was still on the screen.
"I'm here for photos," she said calmly.
Vanessa looked her up and down—the simple dress, the empty space behind her. A flicker of understanding and mockery passed through her eyes, but her smile only grew sweeter.
"Evelyn, you're here for photos too? What a coincidence. Adrian and I are doing our wedding shoot—it's for the wedding. I told him it's just for formality, we didn't need to spend this much. But he said he doesn't want any regrets for our wedding."
She slipped her arm around Adrian's stiff arm and smiled, "Evelyn, since you're here, why not take a few photos with us?"
Her tone was innocent, but every word carried a hidden sting.
"Vanessa!" Adrian snapped, trying to stop her—but without much force.
He looked at Evelyn, his expression complicated—awkward, urging, and perhaps something else he didn't even realize himself.
What was he hoping for? Was he afraid Evelyn would make a scene?
Evelyn's gaze passed over Vanessa's smug expression and settled on Adrian's conflicted eyes.
The corner of her lips lifted slightly.
"No need." Her voice was calm, as if none of this had anything to do with her. "You go ahead. I wish you…"
She paused, her eyes brushing over the dazzling wedding dress and Adrian's white suit, then said softly, "a perfect wedding."
She didn't look at their changing expressions again. She turned and walked away.
Adrian instinctively stepped forward, but Vanessa grabbed his arm tightly. "Adrian, the photographer's still waiting… I'm getting cold…"
Evelyn walked out to the street. The sunlight was a little too bright.
A sudden warmth rose in her nose, and something hot began to run down.
Calmly, she took a tissue from her bag, wiped away the streak of red, and tossed it into a roadside bin.
