I ignored him. A cold, humorless smile appeared as an image flashed in my mind: the boy from five years ago, before his memory was gone, holding this same dress and begging me in a trembling voice to accept it.
The moment I returned to my senses, Tracy suddenly screamed and collapsed to the ground.
“Felix, my waist… it hurts… Was it the wedding dress I tried earlier? I must be allergic. Someone must have wanted to harm me… but I know it wasn’t Ulyssa…”
The more she cried, the worse she sounded, tears falling one after another, her voice so weak it could break any moment.
Felix panicked immediately. He rushed over and lifted her into his arms, his voice filled with fury and accusation.
“Ulyssa, how dare you lay a hand on Tracy? You really have some nerve!”
He shouted while dialing the emergency number.
As he passed by me, he slammed his shoulder hard into mine.
“Ulyssa, you really are something. When I come back, I’ll deal with you.”
“It wasn’t me.”
My voice was cold.
But it only earned an angrier shout from him.
“Who else could it be? The dress was in your hands the whole time, and you’re still denying it? Do you have no conscience at all?”
My patience snapped. My tone turned even colder.
“I said it wasn’t me. Felix, are you incapable of understanding human speech?”
The moment the words left my mouth, Tracy let out another sharp cry of pain in his arms.
“Felix, it hurts… don’t blame Ulyssa. She didn’t mean to…”
Felix never wanted to hear my explanation. He shot me a vicious glare and carried Tracy away.
Mocking laughter burst out around me immediately.
“The real bride isn’t even as valued as the foster sister. No wonder she had to throw herself at him.”
“Bride? She can’t even keep the groom’s attention. Even when she begs, nobody wants her.”
Every word hit like a thorn, but I didn’t even bother lifting my eyelids. I simply sat back down.
As the noise faded, I had just finished eating when my phone buzzed.
An anonymous account sent a message.
“Oh dear, sorry Ulyssa. I’m a little allergic to outdated wedding dress styles. Forgot to tell you.”
“Your favorite dress… it must already be in the trash by now, right? A five year old design, carrying your devotion to Felix… sigh, my apologies.”
Every sentence dripped with mockery.
It was obviously Tracy.
I was about to reply when Felix’s name flashed across my screen.
The ringtone felt like the continuation of this ridiculous play.