1 At the altar, right when we were supposed to exchange rings, my fiancé suddenly stepped down. "I have to take care of something. I'll be right back." Before I could even utter a word, he was already rushing down the aisle. Everyone’s eyes followed him as he made a beeline for his childhood best friend, Nina, who was sitting in the front row. He took a water bottle from her hands, twisted the cap off, handed it back, and sprinted right back to the altar. "We didn't lose any time, right? It was barely ten seconds." I stood there, frozen. My heart had leaped into my throat, genuinely believing there was some sort of emergency. But to him, Nina was always the emergency. She took precedence over everything. Just like the fifteen minutes we lost waiting for her to arrive so we could take our engagement photos, or the two hours I spent waiting in the cold because he had to drive out of his way to pick her up from work. I didn't know how many more of these ten seconds, fifteen minutes, or even hours, days, and years I would have to endure in the future. The officiant looked incredibly uncomfortable, trying to laugh it off and save the atmosphere, but the tension in the room was too thick to salvage. "And the groom steps down... uh, the groom is..." I reached over and took the microphone from his hand. In those ten seconds, something inside me snapped. The flame went out. I didn't want to do this anymore. My eyes stung with unshed tears. I was wearing a heavy, elaborate lace gown, balancing on high heels, straining to present the most flawless version of myself. Yet, I could never compete with Nina, who sat quietly in her corner. She didn't have to do a thing. His eyes always lingered on her. All she did was struggle with a bottle cap and cast a single, helpless look in his direction, and Derek went flying to her rescue. Ten seconds. It sounded like nothing. But in those ten seconds, it felt as though someone had taken a cold blade and carved a hollow space into my chest. The pain radiated through my entire body. I brought the microphone to my lips. "The wedding is canceled. I’m sorry to have wasted everyone’s time. Please enjoy the reception on me, and all wedding gifts will be returned." With that, I turned around and walked away. Derek followed me into the dressing room, his face a mask of confusion. "Why are you doing this? Just because of those ten seconds?" I pulled the curtain shut to change out of my gown. "Yes. Because of those ten seconds." "That's ridiculous!" Derek argued through the curtain. "We didn't even lose any time. This morning, when you got stuck in traffic and we were delayed for ages, you didn't throw a fit like this." I stepped out in my normal clothes. The gown had felt so heavy, a weight that required absolute certainty to carry. Ten seconds wasn't the problem. The traffic delay this morning wasn't the problem. Time was never the problem. He just couldn't comprehend it. Why did she always come first? What did that make me? I was simply tired of being relegated to the background of his life. Derek softened his voice, trying to placate me. "Are you jealous? Gwen, she's like a sister to me. She has hypoglycemia, and that was glucose water. I was just being careful. If she fainted at our wedding, it would have ruined the whole day anyway." I looked at him, feeling a profound, hollow disappointment. She was surrounded by people who could have easily helped her. But he believed only he could save her, abandoning his own wedding ceremony to do so. The only logical explanation was that she held the absolute center of his heart. Just like during our engagement, when he insisted we wait for Nina to arrive before we took our official photos, leaving me standing in heels until I was on the verge of fainting. Just like the night he made me wait downstairs in a torrential downpour so he could pick her up. He hadn't even left me an umbrella, and his car splashed muddy water all over me as he sped off. I had waited in the dark for hours that night, only to receive a text: Gwen, take a cab home. I need to help Nina sort some things out. I was always the one who had to compromise. Just like in those ten seconds at the altar, he couldn't choose to stay by my side. I packed my things and left the venue. Settling into my car, a wave of relief finally washed over me. I had looked forward to this wedding so much. I used to think marrying the man I loved was the greatest blessing in the world. But the red flags had been there all along; I had just chosen to blind myself to them. In our family, there was a strict tradition. Before the wedding, the groom had to handwrite the marriage covenant, a sacred vow, letter by letter, with absolute precision to show his devotion to his bride and the marriage. But when Derek sat down to write it, he gave up after just two words. "I haven't written anything by hand in years. This is too tedious. It's just an outdated tradition anyway." He procrastinated for months, suggesting we just print it out because it would look neater. My mother, who was very traditional, held this custom close to her heart. I kept pleading with him to finish it. "Just do it for me, please? My mother really cares about this. She wants to keep the covenant." But Derek never listened. A simple hundred-word covenant took him a year, and he still hadn't finished it. When I looked at the parchment, there were only five words written: two from his first attempt, and three more that I had practically begged him to write over the past year. It was supposed to be a test of his devotion, and he had failed miserably. What was he doing during that year? He was busy running errands for Nina, comforting her, anticipating her every need. He could spend hours sketching designs for her or writing out her grocery lists, but he couldn't spare ten minutes for our covenant. In the end, I had been foolish enough to mimic his handwriting and complete the covenant myself, effectively marrying myself. As I quietly unpacked my things back at my apartment, the illusion of his love finally shattered. It was painful, but facing the truth brought a strange sense of peace. That afternoon, Derek's mother called, demanding I come over to their estate to explain myself. I agreed. Things needed a clean break. True to form, Derek, who was supposed to pick me up, never showed. I wasn't even surprised. Looking back, I had bent over backward to win his family's approval. Whenever they wanted to get rid of their high-end junk, they dumped it on me to sell. I would leave their house loaded down with heavy boxes, spending my free hours after work finding buyers, negotiating prices, and shipping packages. When I transferred the money to his mother, all I ever got was a lukewarm, "We took a loss on this. You should have gotten more." I was their unpaid liquidator, a convenient tool to turn their trash into cash. And because I wanted to please them, I smiled and took it. And what did I get in return? We had planned a modest wedding, inviting only close acquaintances, yet his parents couldn't even bother to show up on time. They told us they would arrive later, just in time for the toasts. How ironic that we didn't even make it that far. When I arrived at the Barlow estate, Derek's mother immediately tried to put me to work. "Gwen, go up to the attic and organize those old books. They've been sitting there forever and they're covered in dust." She didn't even offer me a dust mask. I didn't budge. "Say whatever you have to say. I have places to be." The room went dead silent. Everyone stared at me, including Derek. In the past, he would have found his mother's demands perfectly reasonable. If a man truly loves a woman, how could he be blind to her humiliation? He let his family treat me like a maid under the guise of bonding. Now that I was refusing to play along, I actually saw a flicker of reluctant respect in their eyes. My love for Derek had been the very weapon they used to control me. Derek's father cleared his throat. "What Derek did at the altar was inappropriate, yes. A wedding requires solemnity. But it's hardly a reason to call off the entire marriage. We can always reschedule for another date." I reached into my bag and pulled out the jewelry boxes. They held the bridal jewelry suite Derek had given me for our engagement. It was a traditional five-piece set consisting of a necklace, bracelet, earrings, a ring, and a tiara, symbolizing five blessings. But Nina had been allowed to look through the collection first and had taken the finest pieces. She was probably wearing them right now. Derek had let her do it, promising he would buy replacements before the wedding. He never did. I had to wear my own jewelry to fill the gaps on our wedding day. My five blessings had been reduced to two. "There won't be another wedding," I said quietly. "I'm here to call off the engagement permanently. As you both pointed out from the beginning, we were never a good match." Derek's father frowned. "Your mother was so eager to see you married. You've come this far. What do you gain by making a scene over nothing? How are you going to explain this to her?" He wasn't wrong about my mother. She was currently undergoing cancer treatment in the hospital. Her greatest wish was to see me settled. She wanted to see me in a wedding dress, but more than that, she wanted to know I had a partner to walk beside me through this difficult life. That was why I had tolerated Derek for so long. I wanted to make her happy, believing a joyful event might even aid her recovery. When you have no control over a tragedy, you start putting your faith in miracles. I looked at Derek's father, then at Derek himself. He looked smug, clearly agreeing with his father and expecting me to capitulate. His mother scoffed. "Being this petty never ends well. Such a massive overreaction over a bottle of water. I suppose this is the kind of behavior one expects from a broken home." They only wanted a servant who would bow her head and take the blows. Their judgmental eyes felt like needles piercing my skin. Steeling my spine, I raised my voice. "That's enough! Call me petty, call me dramatic, call me whatever you want. I am done playing this game. You can find someone else to exploit." They seemed to have forgotten that they wouldn't even allow my mother to attend the ceremony. Because of her illness, my mother had worked tirelessly with her physical therapists to stabilize her condition just so she could be there. I had begged them to let her come. "How is it fair that my own mother can't attend my wedding? I understand we need to adapt some parts of the venue for her, but can't she at least sit down for the meal? Can't she just watch me walk down the aisle and take a photo with me?" They had refused, claiming her medical equipment and frail appearance would ruin the aesthetic and bring bad luck to the marriage. In the end, my mother had smiled through her tears and comforted me. "It's alright, sweetheart. Just show me the video afterward. That will be enough for me." Yet, when Nina asked to bring her friend's disabled mother in a wheelchair to sit in the front row, Derek and his parents had readily agreed. They barred my own mother to protect the vibe of the wedding, but welcomed a complete stranger in a wheelchair without a second thought. Leaving the Barlow estate, the cool afternoon air felt incredibly sweet. Letting go was far easier than I had ever imagined. Derek didn't run after me. Perhaps he truly didn't care, or perhaps he assumed I was just throwing another tantrum and would crawl back. It didn't matter anymore. I threw myself entirely into my work and spending every spare moment with my mother. But then, trouble started mounting at my job. One disaster followed another, and my supervisor began dumping piles of files on my desk. "Get these done tonight," he ordered. I pulled three consecutive all-nights. Every time I slipped into the hospital ward late at night, my mother was already asleep. I could only steal a quick look at her pale face before rushing back to the office to work. Exhausted, I finally tried to protest. "Sir, this isn't even my department. Couldn't we..." He cut me off with a snarl. "Everyone else is working hard. You're the only one complaining about helping out." I swallowed my anger and went back to my desk, pushing through the crushing fatigue. Around three in the morning, starving and lightheaded, I ordered some takeout. As I went downstairs to pick it up, I heard voices near the entrance. It was Derek, talking to my supervisor. I stood frozen in the shadows as I realized they knew each other. They were old fraternity brothers. My supervisor shrugged, nudging Derek. "Are you sure this much work is okay? She's going to be exhausted." Derek shrugged, a smug smile on his face. "She needs to learn a lesson. Once she realizes how hard things are out there, she'll stop throwing these tantrums. I don't want to have to beg her to come back. Thanks for the favor, man. I owe you a nice dinner." I stood there clutching my cold takeout, my mind going completely blank. All those grueling hours, the endless red tape, the sleepless nights, it wasn't a standard workload. It was a trap manufactured by the man I had almost married to break my spirit. I didn't go back upstairs to finish the files. I walked out, got into my car, and drove straight to the hospital. Sitting by my mother's bedside, I took her hand. "Mom, that family friend's son you wanted me to meet... is he still available?" The next morning at the office, my supervisor launched into a tirade, screaming at me in front of the entire department. I stared at his moving lips, the dark circles under my eyes heavy and throbbing. I could still hear his laugh from the night before, trading my misery for a steak dinner. How could people be so cruel? I just wanted to do my job, live my life, and escape a toxic relationship. Why did they have to tear me down? The tears finally spilled over, hot and angry. When he called me "selfish" for the third time, I gathered the thick stack of files on my desk and hurled them straight at his face. As I walked out of the building, I ran into Derek in the lobby. His eyes lit up with triumph, believing his little lesson had worked perfectly. "I booked a table at that Italian place you like," he said, stepping into my path. "Come on, stop being stubborn." He was waiting for my surrender, waiting for me to cling to him for warmth. But looking at him now, all I felt was absolute disgust. I pushed past him and walked out into the sunlight. Three days later, I walked out of the registry office, a gold band on my finger. A gentle, steady voice sounded beside me. "The actual wedding ceremony will take a bit more time to organize. I want to make sure everything is perfect for you and your mother." I looked up at Nathan. Suddenly, a shadow fell over us. Derek had tracked me down using an old location-sharing app we had never deactivated. He stared at the red leather folder in my hand, his eyes practically bulging out of his skull. "Gwen, what the hell are you doing?"
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