I almost asked Justin if, from the very beginning, he had never intended for me to wear this dress.
If, from the start, I had never been the real bride in his version of the story.
If my presence had only ever been a bargaining chip, a lure to bring Rhea Winslet back to this country.
But all those questions tangled in my throat and his sharp, warning gaze snuffed out any courage I had.
In the end, I could only force out one word. "Okay."
When the makeup was finished and the wedding began, Rhea wasted no time in taking me away again.
Under the watchful eyes of every guest, she stood on stage hand in hand with Justin, the picture of a perfect couple.
They slid onto each other’s fingers the wedding rings I had custom-ordered.
They drank from the wedding cups I had personally chosen.
When the host prompted them to embrace and kiss, Rhea’s eyes immediately found me, sparkling with excitement.
"This moment is so important, so we have to record it. Starlene, you handle the filming."
"So we can show it to our baby someday."
Dozens of gazes turned toward me at once.
And my blood ran cold.
Only then did Justin seem to realize I was even there.
"Why did you bring her?"
"There are plenty of reporters here. She doesn't need to handle this."
Rhea pouted in fake annoyance.
"Say that again and I’ll run straight out of this wedding. Reporters’ photos are just terrible—what if people think you, the great Justin Harlow, married an ugly monster?"
"All right, fine. Let her do it."
And so, the two of them kissed deeply for ten full minutes. And for that ten full minutes, I stood there holding the camera.
Even the lines the host spoke to stir up cheers—those were my words.
Now, they were blessings for someone else.
Something inside me broke. My knees gave way and I sank to the side.
The last thing I heard before darkness closed in was their voices, perfectly in sync.
"I do."
When I opened my eyes again, the ceremony was already over and the driver was taking me back to the villa.
He mentioned casually that Justin had taken Rhea on their honeymoon and wouldn’t return for two months.
I glanced down at the faint bruises and needle marks on the back of my hand, which were still not healed.
And suddenly, I remembered—back when I still loved him—waiting in the pouring rain for three hours while he finished a business dinner.
I had fallen sick afterward. And that time, he stayed by my side the entire time, never leaving.
He had said softly back then, "It’s my fault for not taking care of my woman properly."
"This lifetime, I swear I’ll never let you catch a cold again."
Slowly, I stood and began packing only my own belongings, leaving everything he had given me behind.
As I slid into the car, his plane must have landed, because a rare message appeared on my phone.
[You’ve done so well. The house is in your hands. Hold on for two more months and I’ll be back soon.]
[When I return, I’ll arrange a wedding for you, one that will be even grander than Rhea’s.]
[Thank you for your understanding, Starlene. I just don’t want Rhea to have any regrets before she leaves.]
But why must their regrets always be paid with my own sincerity?
Tears slid onto the phone screen. I didn’t reply. Instead, I dialed another number.
"Dr. Brian? Yes, please help me get a death certificate."
Since he loved to act, I would give him a stage and this would be my final gift to him.
The death certificate arrived at the villa and I dragged my suitcase out the door without looking back, heading straight for the airport.
At that same moment, in Paris, Justin stared at his phone. The message thread remained unanswered for so long that a prickling unease and irritation began to stir.
"What’s wrong with Starlene? We just left and she’s already out of reach. Can’t you control her?"
"She doesn’t answer calls or reply to messages. Who spoiled her like this?"
Rhea emerged from the bathroom in a loose bathrobe, damp hair dripping onto her shoulders.
Her smooth legs hooked around the man’s waist.
"With how exhausting the wedding was, it’s normal for Starlene to want some rest."
"If I had a boss as cold-hearted as you, I would have quit long ago."
"Since we’re on our honeymoon, don’t worry about things at home. We can talk it out with Starlene when we return."
Justin gave a brief nod, his eyes already clouding over with desire.
Two months later, they finally returned from their honeymoon abroad.
As soon as they stepped into the villa, Justin’s voice rang out instinctively, "Starlene? Starlene, quick help Rhea with her luggage."
This time, there was no familiar, gentle reply.
The servants froze mid-task, exchanging uneasy glances before one of them stepped forward.
"Sir, Starlene left two months ago."
"She only left this behind and she said you should see it yourself."
The servant extended a medical diagnosis. Terminal cancer.
At a glance, the blood drained from Justin’s face.
