1 After we went long-distance, my boyfriend, Vincent, sent me a custom mystery box every single month. He used those little surprises to replace his physical presence, helping me survive the endless, agonizing wait of our long-distance relationship. Two years ago, Vincent made me a promise. "Once I take over the family business, I'm coming back to get you." "I'll make sure you can stand by my side in the light of day." For that single promise, I waited for him in a city two thousand miles away for hundreds of days and nights. Until finally, in the 773rd mystery box I opened. I pulled out a first-class ticket to Chicago. On the flight, my barely contained excitement made the girl sitting next to me giggle. With innocent, bubbling joy, she showed me a photo of her and her fiancé, smiling brightly. "We're getting married in three days!" Looking at the pre-wedding photoshoot on her screen, my hand, which had been lovingly tracing my boarding pass, suddenly froze. The groom-to-be in that photo. Was the very man I had just crossed thousands of miles to see. My sheer joy instantly curdled into absolute shock. I gripped my phone tightly, hiding the lock screen photo of Vincent and me behind the darkened glass. Compared to her stunning, professional wedding photo. My lock screen picture felt exactly like my relationship with him. Something dirty that couldn't be shown to the light. After landing, from the airport all the way to the lobby of Vincent's corporate headquarters, I couldn't reach him. The receptionist eyed my suitcase meaningfully, her polite tone wrapping around a core of pure condescension. "Miss, Mr. Kensington's office isn't a hotel lobby. People can't just waltz in whenever they feel like it." The robotic voice of the automated voicemail kept looping in my ear. I froze, stung by the thinly veiled insult, and was just about to explain myself. When Vincent's helpless, incredibly indulgent voice rang out from behind me. "Slow down, don't run." Serena was bounding through the revolving doors. She practically skipped over and threw herself into his arms, pouting playfully. "Vincent! Come with me to get my hair done!" Vincent smoothly hung up his constantly vibrating phone. He had opened his arms in advance, catching her perfectly. The way their arms linked together so naturally felt like a vice grip twisting around my heart. It hurt so much I couldn't even make a sound. The receptionist shoved me slightly to the side, muttering under her breath. "The actual fiancée is here. Why are you still standing around looking stupid?" I stumbled from the push and twisted my ankle, falling hard onto the polished marble floor. People crossing the lobby stopped to whisper, their eyes burning holes into my back. I covered my face, utterly humiliated. Vincent glanced over. A flash of pure shock crossed his eyes when he saw me. Serena noticed me too and gasped. "Oh! We ran into each other again!" I forced the corners of my mouth up, looking up at them as they walked over, feeling completely pathetic. Serena reached down and helped me up. Vincent gave me a polite, distant nod. Like I was just some random girl from his college dorm. "Hey. Long time no see." That painfully formal greeting felt like a needle shoved straight into my chest. I stared at him, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. Serena looked between us with genuine curiosity. I looked at Vincent with begging eyes, pleading for him to say something real. He held my gaze for a split second, then reached out and firmly grabbed Serena's hand. "Go wait in my office. I'll walk her out." I was left standing completely frozen. Inside Vincent's massive corner office. Everywhere I looked, there were cute, girly trinkets that clearly belonged to Serena. His secretary poured me a glass of water. As she turned to leave, she smoothly and quietly picked up the framed wedding photo sitting right on his mahogany desk and carried it out with her. My mind just kept replaying the way he held her in the lobby. I stared blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Vincent and I came from entirely different worlds. He was the sole heir to the Kensington empire. My dad had abandoned me, my mom was dead, and I survived college entirely on student loans. After graduation, his mother fought tooth and nail to destroy our relationship. To stay with me, Vincent cut all ties with his family. He lost his credit cards, his trust fund, and was dragged back home to be beaten with a golf club by his father. He never gave up. Not until the Kensington family pulled strings to blacklist me in the city. When I couldn't even get a job as a barista, he finally bowed his head and surrendered to them. The night before I moved away to Austin. He stood in this exact spot, holding me, and made a vow. He swore that one day, he would make sure I stood by his side, officially and openly. In my daze, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around my waist, and lips pressed against my cheek. My eyes burned terribly. In the suffocating silence, Vincent's voice was low and calm. "Don't come to the office next time. People talk, and your current identity makes it complicated." "She's just a business partner. I just secured this CEO seat, and I need her family's connections." Hearing him lie straight to my face. I closed my eyes, letting the tears slide down my cheeks. Vincent's eyes filled with heartache. He lowered his voice, coaxing me gently. "Just give me a little more time, okay? Everything I'm doing is for our future." "You understand that, right?" "But she told me you two are getting married." Vincent went completely silent for a second, avoiding my eyes entirely. "It's just a stalling tactic. You know you're the one I'm actually going to marry." Standing in the exact same spot where he made his first promise. My heart wavered, but a terrifying sense of dread washed over me. I didn't dare believe him anymore. 2 Back in the old, cheap apartment we used to rent, Vincent was helping me make the bed. As he reached across the mattress, his sleeve slipped down, and I saw a tattoo on the inside of his arm. It was a date. A date that meant absolutely nothing to me. His phone was sitting on the nightstand. I tapped the screen, looking at the lock screen wallpaper of a couple kissing on a beach. I punched in the date from his tattoo. The phone unlocked instantly. Vincent walked out of the bathroom, his brows instantly knitting together defensively. "Are you going through my phone?" I lowered my eyelashes, my voice incredibly soft. "We're breaking up." Suddenly, the power in the apartment cut out. Plunged into absolute pitch black, Vincent scoffed in disbelief. "Break up? Because of Serena?" "I already told you, she and I are just a partnership! Everything with her is purely transactional!" "I'm doing all this for my career! For our future!" "You've always been the understanding one. Stop throwing a tantrum." My eyes were completely hollow. It took every ounce of strength I had to push the words out of my throat. "Vincent, I will not be the side piece." Vincent froze, his voice rising in anger. "What side piece? How is this even the same thing?" A custom ringtone suddenly interrupted him. He picked it up, pressing it to his ear as he immediately started walking toward the door. He tossed a quick, "Wait for me to get back," over his shoulder and rushed out. He completely forgot that I had terrible night blindness. In the dark, I was practically blind. I sat frozen on the bed for a long time before I stumbled around, banging my knees against the furniture, to find my phone. When I lit the screen, I saw a new post on Serena's social media. [Do you guys think Vincent will make a good husband?] The attached photo showed Vincent setting several home-cooked dishes and desserts onto a dining table. It looked so warm. So incredibly bright. My stomach churned violently, and I couldn't stop dry heaving. Ever since I got that plane ticket, I had been so ecstatic about seeing him that I had completely forgotten to eat. The pain made me curl into a ball. I squatted in the corner, my hand brushing against an empty outlet on the wall. It was empty. In the past, Vincent had plugged a little nightlight into every single corner of this apartment. Later, I took those nightlights with me to Austin. During our long-distance years, they had taken his place, keeping me company through countless dark nights. Now, I had finally come to his city. But the distance between us was an ocean that could never be crossed. The next day. Serena invited me to sit down at a high-end cafe. She giggled, stirring her latte. "Vincent always tells me how much you helped him back in college. I wanted to thank you personally." I nodded absently, my mind focused on scrolling through project details in my email. In the middle of her endless bragging, Serena answered a phone call. "The mystery box for next month? Just pick whatever trendy figure is popular right now. It's fine." I froze. I looked up at her. "You like those mystery boxes?" "Oh, I'm just running errands for Vincent. He said it was to pay back a small favor he owed someone." No wonder. A year ago, the mystery boxes Vincent sent me completely changed. They went from the obscure indie artists I actually loved to mainstream, generic junk. It wasn't even him picking them out anymore. I thought he was giving me his absolute best effort, a relentless commitment to keeping me company. To him, he was just paying off a debt. I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. Serena tilted her head, reached into her designer bag, and slid an elegant, gold-foiled wedding invitation across the table. "Vincent told me to hand this to you personally. You absolutely have to come tomorrow!" On the card, the names of the bride and groom were pressed tightly together in beautiful calligraphy. It looked exactly like the fantasies I used to play over and over in my head. The only difference was. My name was written in small print under the "Guest" section. I slipped the invitation into my purse. At the exact same moment, an email notification popped up on my phone. [Confirmation Successful: You are now the lead on the Austin project.] After parting ways with Serena, I walked into a small, rundown diner down the street and ordered a plate of food. The portion of chicken was much bigger than it used to be, but it tasted like absolutely nothing in my mouth. The owner was counting cash at the register. When she looked up and saw me, her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, it's you!" "You remember me?" She clapped her hands and laughed warmly. "Of course I do! Years ago, your boyfriend swiped three different debit cards just to scrape together enough for one plate of food. Then he begged me to use his last two dollars to buy an extra piece of chicken for you. Said you'd been working on your feet all day and needed the protein." "That foolish, sweet kid. Why didn't he come with you today?" That day, Vincent had just sat across from me, watching me eat with a smile, lying and saying he wasn't hungry. As he watched me, his eyes had turned completely red, and he kept whispering that he was absolutely going to marry me one day. Thinking about the invitation sitting in my bag, I shook my head. "He's getting married. And I'm leaving town." 3 Outside the grand doors of the hotel ballroom. I accidentally bumped into Vincent and one of his rich friends. "An arranged marriage that turned into true love. A match made in heaven, bro!" "But what about that girl down in Austin? Haven't you guys been apart for two years?" "...Don't bring her up." To the world. Vincent and Serena were perfectly in love and perfectly matched. The corporate merger was just an added bonus to their epic romance. And me? I was just a brief pause before a dismissive "Don't bring her up." I stepped out from behind the pillar. Vincent looked up and froze the second he saw me. "What are you doing here?" "I came to get some food." He reached out, trying to cup my cheek. I turned my head sharply, dodging his hand. He let out a heavy sigh and quickly transferred a large sum of money to my phone. "Eat something good. You've gotten so thin these past two years. Go buy yourself some nice clothes after this." "I have a corporate dinner to attend. I'm going to be very busy the next few days. Be a good girl and wait for me. I'll come find you when this is all over." I lowered my head obediently. I pulled up my travel app and paid a premium fee to expedite a ticket purchase. Five minutes later, the screen flashed: [Ticket Purchased Successfully]. The wedding ceremony began. Vincent was wearing a Windsor knot—the exact knot I had once told him looked best on him. Unlike his usual calm, composed self, his hands were actually shaking slightly as he gave his speech. Like I was torturing myself on purpose, I stood in the back and listened to every single word. During our two years apart, Vincent always said it just "wasn't the right time" for me to visit. He constantly left me staring at a blank chat screen and listening to the dead dial tone of a dropped call. But as long as I thought about the day we could finally stand together again. I swallowed all the pain and held on. When I was sick and struggling to adapt to a new city, Vincent was romantically meeting Serena at a high-society gala. When I was pulling all-nighters, working myself to the bone just to be worthy of his status, Vincent was making a wildly public confession of love to Serena on a private island. When I was hugging a framed picture of him, crying until my eyes swelled shut from missing him. Vincent was holding Serena at the highest point in Chicago, kissing her under a sky full of fireworks. Without me even realizing it, my tears were falling again. "...Look at her. The side piece is actually getting emotional listening to this." I whipped my head around. Several unfamiliar faces were standing near me. When they saw me looking, one of them sneered openly. "Oh! So she knows we're talking about her." "Years ago, Vincent and Serena were already engaged, and she still wouldn't stop stalking him. Didn't they ship her off to Austin? Now she's back to crash the wedding?" "A side piece trying to crash a wedding? Classy." I stared at them, completely stunned by the venom in their words. Up on the stage, Serena's face was bathed in tears. She gripped the microphone, choking on her sobs, as Vincent smiled and held her hand tightly. "Vincent and I have been in love for five years and engaged for three. We finally made it to today." "A few days ago, I met someone who shares a very special connection with both me and my husband." "So, I'd like to invite her to bring up our wedding rings..." Before Serena even finished her sentence, a massive gasp ripped through the ballroom. On the giant LED screens behind them, a slideshow of intimate photos began playing on a loop. Holding hands, hugging, walking in and out of hotels. Everything. The people in the photos were me and Vincent. A split second later, a blinding spotlight hit me dead in the center of the crowd. An usher walked right up to me and bowed. The velvet tray in his hands held two glittering wedding bands. Every single pair of eyes in that massive hall locked onto me. I didn't hesitate. I picked up the rings and walked straight up to the altar. Vincent watched me get closer and closer. The utter disbelief on his face slowly morphed into dark, furious rage. I picked up the bride's ring and held it out to him. Someone in the crowd yelled, "Having the mistress deliver the rings! Now that's entertainment!" Vincent violently slapped my hand away. The ring went flying. He grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip. "You planned this?" "Is this why you came back?" I stood on that stage, stared at by hundreds of people. They were all whispering. Every single time the word "homewrecker" was hissed, it drilled perfectly into my ears. It felt like steel spikes being driven into my spine. Before my mother died. She had screamed the name of my father's mistress until her throat bled. She died choking on her own hatred. I despised mistresses with every fiber of my being. Later, when my dad remarried. At his wedding, he physically forced me to my knees and demanded I call that woman "Mom." Right now, I was biting my lip so hard it bled, but the humiliation I felt was a million times worse than that day. Back then, Vincent had kicked the doors open. He punched my father to the ground, screamed in the mistress's face, and dragged me out of that hellhole. But now, in front of everyone. He shoved me violently to the floor. His face was a mask of absolute ice. "I have absolutely no connection to this woman." "Two years ago, she was stalking me, and I paid her a lump sum to leave the city. I had no idea she came back to harass Serena or crash this wedding." "Mom, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Waldorf, Serena. I promise I will handle this and give you a satisfactory answer." I lay on the cold floor, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. Vincent called security to drag me off the stage and pull me out the doors. As I was dragged past Serena. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but her gaze was dead, cold, and calculating. "Thanks for making the trip," she whispered. The mystery box with the ticket. The "coincidental" meeting on the plane. The personal invitation. In a fraction of a second, the puzzle pieces locked together in my brain. Serena knew everything. This entire spectacle was orchestrated by her. Vincent personally escorted me out the back doors. Before leaving, he grabbed my arm and hissed under his breath. "I had to protect the reputation of both our families. I didn't have a choice." "I know you feel wronged, but you crossed a massive line today! Do you have any idea that you almost ruined everything we've worked for?!" "Go back to the apartment and wait for me. I'll come find you as soon as I clean this up. I promise this won't affect us." He shoved me into a waiting taxi, ordered the driver to take me to the apartment, and turned on his heel to leave. I stared at his retreating back. I rolled up the window and looked at the driver. "Take me straight to the airport."
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