On one of those Reddit threads asking, "How hard is it to get over your first love?" my fiancé's answer popped up: "Can't let go, can't forget. I married her niece, so I could always be near her, even just as family." The post quickly got buried, and Ethan switched to anonymous, but I’d already seen it. Because I’m the poor sucker niece in that answer. Except, I’m not heartbroken. After all, my own anonymous answer to that same question, posted three years ago, already has tens of thousands of upvotes and comments. 1. When I opened the door, my husband, Ethan, stood there, eyes bloodshot, reeking of alcohol, his shirt a wrinkled mess. I took the jacket he offered, stepping back slightly to avoid the wave of booze fumes. He proposed last week. I said yes. This morning, we went down to City Hall and made it official. Ethan tugged at his collar, trying to hide his low spirits. I was happy for the quiet, pretending not to notice as I offered some wifely concern. "Did a friend drop you off? Drink lots of water, take care of yourself." "That doesn't matter." Ethan grabbed my arm impatiently, pulling me into a hug. "They're just jealous I have such a great wife. We're finally family." Ethan holds his liquor okay. He crashed on the sofa and was out cold pretty quickly. I noticed his phone was unlocked. Even though I’d stumbled across his Reddit post half an hour earlier, I still felt a pang of… not pity, maybe just disappointment at his carelessness. The thread: "How hard is it to get over your first love?" His answer: "Forgetting is impossible. Dating her niece… well, the vineyard owner wasn't really after the grapes, if you know what I mean. It was just so I could see her often, even call her 'Aunt.' Now, the niece loves me deeply, but I don't really love her back. My first love is her aunt. No one can replace her. Getting married was just about having a legitimate reason to be close, to protect my first love from afar." 2. The first time I brought Ethan home, I hadn't even introduced my Aunt Audrey yet. But he reacted like he knew exactly who she was, didn't miss a beat, just followed my lead and called her "Aunt Audrey." Thinking back on Audrey's expression then—surprise, confusion—it was incredibly subtle. Ethan, meanwhile, couldn't hide his smug satisfaction. Looking back now, there wasn't much innocence in that moment. 3. Actually, Audrey isn't my biological aunt. She's my grandfather's daughter from another relationship. My grandfather and her mother passed away when she was young, and my grandmother decided to raise her until she was an adult. When I started high school, she was a junior in college, doing an internship in our city and staying with us. My parents were very understanding and tolerant towards her, but she just became more spoiled and demanding. "Your aunt hasn't had it easy," my dad would often say, urging me to be kind. Good people often feel sorry for those who've suffered. Despite all the affection she received, Audrey was never satisfied. She competed with me for everything, tried to sabotage my reputation, spread rumors. If we were both home, conflict was inevitable. As we got older, we maintained a surface-level peace, but underneath, the currents were always turbulent. She probably thinks she's finally won. My husband is the man she discarded, a man still deeply in love with her, his unforgettable first love, his ‘moonlight.’ This morning, I posted pictures of our marriage certificate and sent out wedding invites online. Audrey commented "Congratulations." I wonder what she was really feeling. Ninety percent of Ethan's long Reddit post was about how he couldn't get over Audrey after they broke up, how he "accidentally" found out about her niece (me), and how he pursued me. So that’s how it was. Suddenly, Ethan, asleep on the sofa, grabbed my wrist. "Don't go… don't leave me…" I pulled my hand away. What Ethan doesn't know is that three years ago, I also answered that question. My post now has over thirty thousand upvotes and two thousand comments. After posting it back then, I never dared to look at it again. It represented a dream I couldn't touch, something that only brought wistful pain whenever I thought of it. Truth is, my dream should have ended long ago. Ethan was never him. But I had a promise I needed to keep. 4. The next morning, we were supposed to check out wedding venues. Ethan glanced at his phone, then bailed on me. I didn't need to ask who texted him. Two years ago, Audrey got her wish and married into a wealthy family. Her husband wasn't exactly good to her – partying, womanizing, even a violent streak. But she dragged her feet on divorcing him, unwilling to give up the money and status. Three minutes ago, she posted on her Instagram story. "Hangover headache. Feeling helpless." No wonder Ethan rushed off. Good thing I didn't make much breakfast today; just enough for one. 5. At three in the afternoon, Ethan called me downstairs, his tone casual. I opened the car door. Aunt Audrey was in the passenger seat. Ethan said, "Your aunt works in design. I specifically asked her to come help you check things out." He pursed his lips. There was a small cut on his lip. Audrey’s lips looked a bit swollen too, her lipstick smudged around the edges. Audrey smiled faintly but said nothing. I paused by the door for a moment. Audrey acted as if she just realized. She put on a high-pitched voice, "Oh, I know the city routes better, so I'll navigate from the front seat. You don't mind, do you, Lily?" Ethan immediately jumped in. "Why would she mind? Aunt Audrey, you just sit up front. Right, Lily?" Halfway through the drive, Audrey dropped a bombshell nonchalantly. "I'm divorced." The car screeched to a halt, triggering a chorus of angry honks. I could feel the irritation from other drivers through the windows. Ethan ignored it all, staring only at Audrey, his voice hoarse. "You're divorced?" Audrey curved her lips into a smile, meeting his gaze boldly. "Yes." Ethan stared at her for a long moment, single-handedly adding to the already congested traffic. They looked like actors in a soap opera. Afraid they'd derail my important plans, I had to break the spell. "We should get going." 6. The atmosphere in the car was tense the rest of the way. Once we reached the wedding venue, Audrey immediately slipped into the role of the protagonist, discussing details meticulously with the manager. Ethan hovered nearby, pouring her water, fanning her occasionally. They exchanged intimate smiles, completely ignoring me. The manager chuckled admiringly. "You two make such a beautiful couple. Truly enviable." A sudden silence fell over the venue. I watched Ethan steadily. The words, "She's actually my bride," never came out. I let out a short, sharp laugh. Not surprised. Just then, faster than you could say "drama," Audrey's ex-husband, Mark, burst in. I don't know how a body ravaged by booze and excess could muster the speed of a sprinter, but maybe rage fueled him. Mark glared at Audrey. "So this is why you suddenly divorced me! You had some pretty boy waiting on the side! Have you no shame?" Audrey immediately hid behind Ethan. "Leave me alone! We're divorced!" Before anyone knew it, Ethan and Mark were throwing punches. Audrey wrung her hands nearby, pretending to break it up, but somehow I, in my heels, got caught in the crossfire. I lost my balance, tumbled to the ground, and felt a sharp crack in my ankle. The manager finally snapped into action, and security guards dragged Mark out. Ethan rushed straight to Audrey. "Aunt Audrey, are you okay?" I tried to move my ankle and cried out in pain. Before he could even turn towards me, Audrey fainted. He didn't hesitate for a second, turning back mid-stride, scooping her up. "Lily, I'll come back for you later." In that moment, I felt no sadness. Watching Ethan dart back and forth just now, he reminded me of that donkey in Aesop's fables, wanting both the hay and the water bucket, finally collapsing from indecision. 7. "Okay," I said. "Just make sure you come back." My ankle hurt, but after a minute, I could hobble. Predictably, Ethan never returned to the venue that night. He called later, told me to go home and rest. Said Audrey was very weak, needed to be hospitalized, and he was staying there to take care of her. Good thing I didn't wait for him until midnight. 8. Late that night, lying in bed, I opened my old keepsake box, not a Bible, but close enough, and took out a photograph. Noah, did you see? Today, I finally made it to the wedding of my dreams. But the silent night offered no reply, only endless loneliness. The next day, I went to the cemetery on the outskirts of town. In front of Noah’s headstone, there was a bouquet of chrysanthemums. And a mother and daughter. The little girl looked at me and asked, "Are you related to Noah?" I was speechless for a moment, thinking of the wedding that never happened, the celebration I could never reach. Silence and grief washed over me. "Yes," I managed, my voice choked. "I'm his… family." "Noah saved me," the little girl said earnestly. "He donated his corneas to me. He gave me sight." My heart jolted. I looked down at the little girl's innocent eyes, emotions overwhelming me again. Tears welled up, threatening to fall. "Little one," I asked, my voice trembling, "is your name… Chloe?" The little girl nodded. "Yes, miss. I'm Chloe." (Original: Chu Qian, changed to Chloe for clarity) So, it was wrong from the very beginning. I had the wrong person all along. The one with Noah's eyes was never the Ethan I knew. I forced a smile and gently patted the girl's head. "Chloe, you need to live facing the sun. Grow up strong and happy." 9. The little girl nodded again, then looked up at me. "Miss, what kind of person was the big brother?" "Him? He was a very strong, very gentle person. He always showed me warmth and hope." "He was a light in my life." The little girl handed me a paper crane she was holding. "Miss, don't be sad. This is the thousandth paper crane I've folded. Big brother Noah is definitely watching over you from heaven." I stroked her head. "Thank you." After they left, I slowly sank down, tracing the inscription on the headstone, murmuring, "Noah, will you be angry that I got the wrong person?" The Ethan I found wasn't the Chloe I was looking for. He was just… irrelevant. I never liked him. But every time I looked into his eyes, it felt like Noah was speaking to me. How could I refuse those eyes? So I said yes to Ethan’s confession. I said yes to Ethan’s proposal. He was, after all, the closest thing to Noah left in this world. But when he closed his eyes, the illusion shattered, yet I refused to wake up. That so-called obsession… vanished in an instant. My phone rang. It was Ethan. I turned it off without a second thought. The man on the headstone photo was expressionless, but his eyes were warm and kind. I took that picture. But when I took it, I never imagined it would become black and white. I whispered to him, "Noah, let's get married." "Do you think this could all be a dream? Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up, and you'll be alive again?" "If you can hear me, make the clouds break, okay?" 10. Just then, sunlight pierced through the clouds, scattering down from the sky, finally settling on the earth. The biting chill finally faded. The sky… it really cleared. A distant breeze lifted my hair, dried the tears on my cheeks, and soothed the heavy sadness in my heart. Strands of hair brushed my face, just like that summer when I was seventeen. I really thought he would be by my side forever. That day, I'd fought with Audrey. She'd given away some of my things without asking. We got into a physical fight; no one could pull us apart. When my dad came home, he slapped me right across the face. "You disappoint me so much." I slammed the door and ran out, consumed by pain and frustration. But around the corner, I found myself drawn back to Noah's flower shop. It was graduation season, filled with clouds of baby's breath. Amidst the flowers, I saw the busy owner. Maybe it was the gentle way his brownish hair caught the light, maybe it was the bright summer sun, but surrounded by the scent of flowers, I walked into the shop. Inside his shop, I kept my head down. But he stopped what he was doing, came over, looked gently into my eyes, and ruffled my hair. "Eyes are so red. What's making my little friend so sad and gloomy?" "Nothing, just tripped and fell." He brought over the first-aid kit anyway. With those same long fingers that tied beautiful bouquets, he gently dabbed antiseptic on my scraped knee. "You don't have to be so strong all the time," he said softly. "I'm here." I couldn't hold back anymore. I threw myself into his arms and sobbed. His beige shirt got soaked with my tears. He smelled like clean laundry and warm sunshine. He usually kept a respectful distance, but that time, he didn't push me away. He just gently patted my back. It was the safest I'd felt in anyone's arms since my mom passed away. I knew, right then, I was hopelessly falling for him. He didn't say much, but he was kinder than anyone I knew. 11. Audrey posted on social media again. The smugness in her words made me suspect she'd set the privacy to "Ethan only." The picture showed a bowl of soup on a hospital bed tray. The caption: "Having you here is my greatest happiness." One of Ethan's hands was prominently featured in the shot. He stayed at the hospital with her for two days. I didn't want to deal with it anymore. I quietly went back to our apartment and started packing my things. Just as I was almost done, Ethan came back. Usually, when our eyes met—his eyes—I'd break into a happy smile. But now, I didn't even bother looking up. Treated him like air. Suddenly, Ethan grabbed my hand. When I finally looked up at him, he fell silent. He seemed hesitant, but I had no more time to waste. "Let's get a divorce." My directness seemed to throw him off, leaving him looking lost. "I'm sorry. I messed up. You… take care of yourself… find happiness…" Before he could finish, I went into the bedroom, dragged out my packed suitcase, ready to leave. He frowned, looking at my luggage. "When did you pack?" "Right around the time I realized first loves are truly unforgettable."
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