Chapter 6

Ten days before the "wedding," Alex was almost nowhere to be found.

Saying this out loud sounds like a complaint, but I had no right to complain.

I was no longer his fiancée—at least not in my heart.

His reason for being away was always the same: Selena.

What truly struck me as absurd was that this time, he had even requested permission in advance for his absence.

"Ten days before the wedding, I'll be taking Selena on a trip."

He added, "She says she'll never be able to be anyone's wife in this lifetime."

"She wants me to play the role of a husband." He said. "At least for those ten days. To give her some sense of completion."

Play the role.

Husband.

Completion.

The direction of this situation was becoming increasingly bizarre, but I couldn't be bothered to dwell on it.

After all, I was also just playing the role of a dutiful bride-to-be.

"Alright," I said, my voice betraying no emotion.

I found a new wedding planner and had them arrange a simple ceremony.

Though puzzled by my approach, they maintained their professionalism and prepared everything perfectly.

These past few days, though Alex and I were thousands of miles apart, thanks to Selena's overwhelming desire to share, I could watch the live broadcast of this so-called "final journey" on her Instagram.

The captions were always poetic and grateful, the comments filled with tears and blessings.

"Iceland's aurora, the light of life."—Even though aurora season had long passed.

"Rented a gondola in Venice, wanting to hear the boatman sing ancient ballads."—In the photo, she was wrapped in a thick shawl, nestled against Alex, her smile pale yet content.

"Today in Santorini, the sunset here feels like the edge of the world."—On the cliff's edge, Alex's arm around her shoulders.

At first, I scrolled past expressionlessly.

Later, I began to notice something was wrong.

The attractions they visited, the restaurants they checked in at, the hotels they stayed in... were all identical to the honeymoon itinerary I had painstakingly put together over countless sleepless nights.

That itinerary, carrying all my secret hopes, I had nervously and excitedly sent to Alex's email. His reply was so brief it bordered on cold: "Received. Leave it on my desk."

And now, he was completing the honeymoon trip I had planned—with another woman.

Every guide I made, every location I marked, every moment I dreamed of, had now become the swan song of life that Selena performed with my fiancé on her Instagram.

How ironic.

I was like the most dedicated behind-the-scenes planner, providing the perfect script and locations for someone else's love story, without a single shot of my own.

My phone buzzed again. A message from Alex.

"Get the wedding arrangements finalized soon. I'm very busy right now. You need to understand."

That familiar commanding tone again.

Understand.

Of course I understood.

I understood why he could carve out ten whole days to help her realize her "honeymoon" fantasy, yet could never spare a complete weekend for me.

I understood why he could show such a natural, warm expression in someone else's camera lens, while in my memories, his smile was always the rarest thing.

It wasn't because Selena was dying.

It was because he had never given me the same measure of attention, patience, and tenderness.

Ten years. Over three thousand days and nights. Like a devout pilgrim, I trudged toward a mirage, believing that if I got a little closer, just a little closer, I could touch the real oasis.

I walked into the bedroom and pulled out the wedding photo album Alex had taken half a day out of his schedule to shoot with me a month ago.

Look. How clear it was.

In hundreds of photos, Alex's expression was always so stern.

Completely different from the man in Selena's posts.

I used to think he was simply cold by nature, not good at expressing himself.

Now I knew. He had never been gentle with me.

A delayed, dull ache spread through my chest, but I would no longer allow myself to grieve over Alex.

Enough.

Truly enough.

I would not look back anymore.