On our wedding day, Alexander’s ex-girlfriend sent him a notice that she was critically ill. She said she just wanted to wear a wedding dress one last time before she died. To fulfill her wish, Alexander locked me in the dressing room and prepared to hold the wedding ceremony with her. Through the door, his impatient voice rang out. “Can’t you be less cold-hearted? She’s dying. What’s wrong with letting her have this moment?” Later, the boy next door who had a crush on me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him instead. Alexander, with reddened eyes, pleaded with me, “Are you going to throw away our seven years of love for him?” I brushed his hand away, “What else can we do, let him die? It’s just getting a marriage license. Don’t be so cold-hearted.” There was still an hour before the wedding ceremony was set to begin. I sat at the makeup table, looking at the photo Alexander’s ex-girlfriend had sent to my phone. In the picture, she was wearing the wedding dress I had chosen, smiling as she clung to Alexander’s arm. Alexander was looking down at her, his eyes full of tenderness. She sent a message saying: [He said I look better in this dress than you would.] She also said: [If you want your wedding ceremony to go smoothly, beg me.] I turned off my phone and asked the makeup artist, “Is it really because the size was altered incorrectly that I can’t wear the wedding dress we originally decided on?” The bridal shop I had chosen was also responsible for my makeup and photography. To ensure everything would look perfect on the wedding day, I had spent a lot of money and had numerous discussions with their team. But now, the makeup artist couldn’t even look me in the eye. I knew what was going on. I thought about how when Alexander accompanied me to try on wedding dresses, he was either answering phone calls or working on his laptop. But with his ex-girlfriend, he was all smiles. I gripped my phone tightly and took a deep breath. “Please ask Alexander to come here.” I needed an explanation. The makeup artist’s assistant went to call him. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, at the overly tight bodice that made it hard to breathe. Perhaps clothes that don’t fit should never have been put on in the first place. The wedding officiant arrived before Alexander did. His face showed the same guilt, along with a hint of apology. “I’m sorry, Miss Amelia, but you won’t need to attend.” “Won’t need to attend?” I almost laughed in anger. “Are you telling me that at my own wedding, I, the bride, can’t show up? Is that what you mean?” The officiant opened his mouth to explain, but Alexander walked in. He said, “It was my idea.” Alexander was wearing the white suit I had chosen for him, but the bowtie at his collar wasn’t the one I had picked out. Seeing my gaze fixed on his bowtie, he looked uncomfortable and cleared his throat. “Sophia is having surgery in a few days. The hospital has given her a critical condition notice. She said her only wish is to wear a wedding dress once.” I laughed coldly, “At my wedding to you?” I knew about Sophia. It wasn’t until the third year of my relationship with Alexander that I learned he had an ex-girlfriend who had lost all her hair due to chemotherapy. They had grown up together, and their families were close. Even after breaking up, they couldn’t completely cut ties. Because she was receiving treatment in another city, Sophia’s parents had asked Alexander, who lived in the same city as us, to take care of her. At first, I respected and sympathized with her, feeling sorry that a young woman in the prime of her life had to suffer from illness. But from the moment she started making Alexander deliver porridge to her in the middle of the night after our dates, my impression of her took a sharp downturn. Time and again, I held back because she was ill. Alexander also seemed to understand the boundaries and always put my wishes first. Whenever Sophia asked him to do something, he would report it to me. Only occasionally, when the situation was truly urgent, would he go to her, and he would bring me along. Until today. When did Alexander try on wedding dresses with her? And when did he decide to give her the wedding dress I had chosen, letting her take my place in the wedding ceremony?
Perhaps it was because the air conditioning in the dressing room was too strong, but the more I thought about it, the colder I felt to my bones. Alexander reached out to hold my hand, but I shook him off. I looked up at him steadily: “Bring the wedding dress back. I don’t want her to wear it.” Alexander frowned: “Stop making a fuss, Amelia. It’s just a ceremony. We can have another one anytime.” His downturned lips and the irritation in his eyes hurt me. I said, “Fine, let the wedding dress go. But if she wants to hold a wedding ceremony, does the groom have to be you?” Was it her being unreasonable and making demands because of her serious illness, or were you already drifting in our relationship and just taking the easy way out? Perhaps because I had exposed him, hitting a nerve, his face turned ugly. Alexander let go of me and walked towards the door, throwing words back at me. “Dating you has become so tiresome. You never consider my face, always making a scene until everyone looks bad.” Am I the one not considering his face? Am I the one making unreasonable demands? The sound of the door locking brought me back to reality. I picked up my skirt and banged on the door hard: “I don’t agree. The wedding I’ve been carefully preparing and looking forward to for so long is not just a ceremony…” Through the door, his impatient voice rang out. “Can’t you be less cold-hearted? She’s dying. What’s wrong with letting her have this moment?” She’s dying. Just because she’s sick, I’ve been tolerating so much for years, and now I have to give up my own wedding and husband. But am I the one who made her sick? I gripped the doorknob and calmed down: “Alexander, think carefully. Don’t regret this.” There was a pause in the voice outside the door, then the sound of determined footsteps fading away. I slid down to the floor, hugging the exaggerated skirt, feeling completely empty inside. She really ruined my wedding. Sophia had done it. The phone on the makeup table started ringing urgently. It was a call from my parents. Before I could answer, the call ended. The dressing room was right behind the main hall, separated by just a door. I could clearly hear the commotion from the hall, exclamations of shock and unrest. Then, guided by the officiant, there was applause. Sophia’s account sent me another video. The camera was pointed at the big screen, where all the pre-wedding photos of Alexander and me that we had put so much effort into had been AI-replaced with Sophia’s face. All those days of enduring the hot sun for makeup, the aching backs and feet, the hours of adjusting poses for aesthetics, had all become Sophia’s trousseau. This made me even angrier than Alexander’s words. Even though I was shaking with anger, my hand still opened the next video. In the video, she was walking towards Alexander, step by step under the spotlight. In the shadows behind her, my parents were looking around for me with upset expressions, but were being held back by two security guards. Seeing this, I finally couldn’t hold back my tears, which fell drop by drop onto my parents’ faces on the phone screen. I had chosen the wrong person. Why did I have to involve my parents in this humiliation along with me? I didn’t watch the rest of the videos. In the midst of the excitement on the other side of the wall, my mind gradually cleared. After studying myself in the mirror for a long time, I took off the ill-fitting wedding dress, removed my makeup, and changed back into my previous clothes. I could only feel grateful. At least I had seen clearly before getting the marriage certificate.
The long ceremony finally ended. The door to the dressing room was opened, and Alexander stood in the doorway. He rubbed his brow, looking quite drained: “I’ll make it up to you for this incident, and I’ll also go to explain to your parents…” I interrupted him: “No need. They’re my parents, not yours.” They have nothing to do with you, so there’s no need. He was stunned. Alexander looked exhausted: “Don’t say things out of anger. You know Sophia is also suffering from her illness. What’s wrong with us letting her have her way?” Even now, he still thought there was nothing wrong with this, still speaking up for Sophia. For a moment, I didn’t know what else I could say to him. I said: “If you think it’s just anger talking, then let it be. I’ll pack my things and move out today. I’ll have someone sell the marital home. If you don’t want to sell it, just transfer the money my family put in back to my account.” After saying this, I saw my parents standing not far away and hurriedly chased after them, leaving behind a “That’s all.” There were many relatives gathered around my parents. As I rushed over, I heard someone say, “How could she be dumped like this?” My second aunt was still lecturing, “It’s not good for a girl to be too strong-willed. Changing brides on the wedding day, what a loss of face.” I pulled my parents away, feeling heartbroken at the embarrassment on their faces. Not caring that my second aunt was my elder, I retorted. “Are you my second aunt or Alexander’s? His last-minute change shows his lack of responsibility and trustworthiness. His failure to discuss it with me shows his self-centeredness and disrespect for me. What does this have to do with whether I’m strong-willed or not? If I had known even a day earlier, today’s groom wouldn’t have been him!” My second aunt was left speechless and walked away muttering. Mom held my hand, and I could clearly see the worry on her face. I comforted her: “It’s okay. If we don’t get married, we don’t get married. I don’t care about it anyway.” After sending them off in their car, I went alone to pack my things at what was supposed to be our marital home. My words were clear, and my mind was very rational. But emotions can’t be controlled. Why do the tears keep falling on their own… The marital home was decorated by Alexander and me together. There were too many traces of him inside. The ceramic pot was something he bought after learning about my menstrual pain, saying he would make nourishing soup for me every week. The walk-in closet was designed by him after seeing me like a high-heel carousel on TikTok. After it was installed, I laughed that the colored lights he put in were too flashy, but he just hugged my waist and asked for a reward. I met him in college, and then we were in a long-distance relationship for a year because of work. At that time, he put in a lot of effort to pursue me. When he confessed, he said he saw me debating fiercely in a competition, looking very impressive. At that time, in his eyes, I was shining brightly. But now he complains that I’m too strong-willed. The light in his eyes has become painful to him. I packed up my things bit by bit, gradually extracting myself from the memories. When I finished packing, I realized that our seven years together amounted to just a box and a half tall. I was just wondering how to drag this box out and throw it away when the door was pushed open. My best friend, Olivia, rushed in like a whirlwind. Seeing her, the strength I had been putting on completely crumbled, and my nose stung unbearably. Olivia gave me a hug, squeezing me tightly, “If I had known, I would have been your bridesmaid. At least you wouldn’t have been so helpless.” She had disliked Alexander for a long time, hating his indecisiveness and inability to let go of his ex-girlfriend. She disliked him so much that she didn’t want to attend my wedding. She even said harshly that if I married him, I would definitely regret it. To put it bluntly, it was okay while Sophia was alive, but if Sophia died, how could I compete with a dead person? For this, she and I had a falling out. Now it seems she was right on the mark. I’m so grateful I can still have such a friend back. With Olivia around, the days weren’t so hard to get through. She had specifically applied for a business trip to avoid my wedding. But as soon as her plane landed, she heard about what had happened. Worried that I might be hiding alone crying, she rushed to find me. She even took annual leave to keep me company, which moved me deeply. The day she was bustling about trying to set me up with someone new, Alexander showed up at the door. I laughed coldly. When a scoundrel comes to the door, I have to properly shut the door and beat the dog!
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