After ten years of love, my boyfriend—now honorably discharged from the military—had finally returned to marry me. But while going through his old phone, I stumbled upon 512 gigabytes of messages filled with longing for someone else.
Even though she had blocked him, the red exclamation marks didn’t stop him from sending long letters and love confession videos to her.
With a bitter heart, I headed to the hospital to collect my premarital checkup report, only to see him down on one knee, holding a ring and proposing:
“Zolenn, I gave up my dreams for you. All I ask is that you keep the child! If you agree, we can go get our marriage certificate right now!”
His desperate pleas, filled with deep affection, made me tear up both the premarital and pregnancy test reports right then and there.
Since he wanted to give another woman and her child a home, I decided I didn’t want to be a part of that picture anymore.
After I miscarried and fled from our engagement, he abandoned the love of his life—Zolenn Smith—and her child. He went mad trying to find me.
And now, in the bustling hospital lobby, Yzail, who had always hated being the center of attention, had already been kneeling for ten minutes. His tall, upright frame was a reflection of his resolve to marry.
The ring in his hand was exactly what I had imagined in all those dreams of proposals.
“Zolenn, please keep the child and marry me. Will you?” he begged.
Zolenn gently touched her stomach with her right hand and extended her left hand toward him.
The ring, the one I had long admired, was now on her finger.
They embraced and kissed passionately while the cheers and whistles from onlookers cut through my heart like a knife.
I ripped up my premarital checkup and pregnancy test reports and turned away.
Three years ago, Yzail said that an out-of-wedlock pregnancy would damage his career, and so he abandoned our first child.
When he returned to the military, I went through the surgery alone, stayed in the hospital alone, and grieved alone.
The child had left three years ago, and my love for him had died three years ago, too.
He never paused for a moment for my child, but for Zolenn and hers, he gave up on his lifelong dream.
Me and my child? We were nothing but a joke. The child in my womb now felt like an even crueler one.
After scheduling an abortion, I got into my car, only to spot Yzail and Zolenn in the parking lot.
“Yzail, if you really want to marry me, you have two options: either cancel your engagement or make Lanaya your bridesmaid.”
“Canceling the engagement isn’t right. I don’t want you to be gossiped about.”
“Then make Lanaya my bridesmaid!”
I eased off the accelerator, curious to see if Yzail, the man who always prided himself on being moral and upright, would agree to such an outrageous demand.
“Alright, you little trickster. Now you can rest easy and marry me, right?” he chuckled.
“But you have to tell her on the wedding day. If she runs away, I won’t have a bridesmaid!” Zolenn added.
“Don’t worry, she owes me her life. I’ve protected her for ten years. Now that I’ve found someone I want to protect for a lifetime, asking her for this small favor will surely save her face. She’ll agree!”
They pressed against the pillar, kissing like the world around them didn’t exist, shredding the last bit of my heart.
I took the key out of the ignition and sat quietly, too weak to drive.
They kissed all the way to their car and drove off.
Struggling to hold my emotions together, I called my uncle.
“Uncle, does your company still hire useless people? I need you to take me in.”
Surprised but happy, he asked, “You no longer want to wait around for the man you’ve been holding out for?”
I glanced at the pile of Chinese medicine prescriptions I had been taking to prepare for pregnancy, my heart heavy with grief.
“Getting married and having kids isn’t everything. Building a career and being with family—that’s what really matters.”
My uncle, who had witnessed my ten-year marathon of love, teased,
“Then I’ll arrange your trip abroad. Once you’re here, I’ll keep you so busy you won’t have time to think about anything else.”
“The man you waited ten years for—a man who promised you a home—how much could he really love you? You were just his backup plan all along.”
“With us by your side, there’s no obstacle you can’t overcome!”
Had I not seen those love messages, I would have confidently told my uncle that Yzail was my soulmate.
But the truth was, those ten years of love? They were nothing more than a cruel joke.
On my way to the hospital to collect my premarital checkup report, I couldn’t wrap my mind around the betrayal.
But when I saw him proposing to the very woman who had nearly killed me, it all made sense. He had retired from the military to marry her.
I had feared for years that during our long separation, Yzail might have fallen for someone else, but I never imagined it would be Zolenn.
And to win her over, he had agreed to humiliate me at their wedding.
I was so consumed by these thoughts that I couldn’t focus on the road. I slammed the brakes and was rear-ended.
Gripping the steering wheel, my heart raced in panic. Just then, Yzail’s call came through.
“Lanaya, the doctor said you’ve already picked up the premarital checkup report. Where are you?”
Chapter 2The sound of car horns blared all around me, jolting me from my thoughts. I clutched my stomach, too terrified to speak.
On the other end of the phone, Yzail’s voice grew tense.
“Lanaya, something doesn’t sound right. Did you get into an accident?” His worry was unmistakable, but I knew it wasn’t because he loved me—it was just his instinct to help others.
“I was in a car accident,” I said quietly.
“Don’t be scared. Where are you? I’m coming right now!” he exclaimed, filled with concern.
By the time he arrived in the passenger seat with Zolenn, the traffic police had already handled everything. Yzail’s relief was obvious once he saw I wasn’t hurt, but I couldn’t ignore the sight of her sitting next to him.
Calmly, I asked, “When did you two get so close?”
He knew exactly what Zolenn had done to me, yet here she was, by his side. Had he already decided to make me the bridesmaid, leaving him with no need to hide the affair anymore?
Yzail looked a bit guilty, rubbing his nose as he replied,
“Lanaya, I went to the hospital to get our premarital checkup report and ran into Zolenn. When she heard you were in an accident, she insisted on coming to check on you.”
I watched them coldly, barely keeping my emotions in check. Then, I asked, “Is she here to check if I am dead?”
Yzail’s face darkened. “Lanaya! Watch your words! Apologize to Zolenn!”
Zolenn, eyes brimming with fake tears, reached for my hand hesitantly.
“Lanaya, I’ve regretted what I did for the past two years. I know I ruined your dream of playing the piano. It was my fault. Can you forgive me?”
After she said those words, Yzail nudged me, signaling that I should say something.
I turned to him, my voice soft yet cold, “Do you think I should forgive her?”
The pain of my severed tendons, the agony of never being able to play the piano again, the loss of my dream—it all flashed through my mind. But I wasn’t weak enough to ask him why he had fallen for her. That would make me seem pathetic.
Guilt flickered briefly across Yzail’s face. “Zolenn made a mistake in a moment of impulse back then. The law already punished her, and she’s been remorseful for years. She’s apologizing now. Why hold on to the past?”
A moment of impulse? Was destroying my future just a fleeting mistake for him? The chronic pain I endured whenever it rained was something I was supposed to let go of.
Not forgiving her made me petty in his eyes.
Back then, Yzail had been by my side in the emergency room, holding my hand, sharing in my hatred for Zolenn. Now, he wanted me to forgive her.
When he reached for my hand to encourage reconciliation, I slapped it away and said bitterly,
“Yzail, you didn’t have your tendons severed. What right do you have to ask me to forgive the person who almost killed me?”
If Yzail hadn’t blocked the knife that day, I wouldn’t even be alive.
Just because he took the blow for me, did that mean I had to forgive her? I wasn’t as magnanimous as he wanted me to be.
His face hardened, and his tone became authoritative.
“Lanaya, I’m doing this for your own good. You’ve always been withdrawn. Zolenn was your only close friend for years. Why not bury the hatchet and rekindle that friendship? You have to move forward in life, don’t you?”
His words were firm, almost domineering, but the warmth and tenderness I once knew were gone. The pain in my abdomen and heart made it hard to even breathe, but I noticed the hidden satisfaction in Zolenn’s tear-filled eyes. The same satisfaction she had shown when she had gone mad that day.
“Lanaya, even if you don’t forgive me, I’ll keep repenting. One day, I hope we can be friends again,” Zolenn said, her voice trembling with feigned remorse.
“Get lost!” I spat out.
Chapter 3I held onto the car door to steady myself, fighting back the pain. But Yzail’s impatience was evident.
“Lanaya, forgiveness is divine. Zolenn has already paid the price. Are you trying to drive her to death?”
His voice echoed the same concern he once had for me when I was covered in blood after Zolenn’s attack. Now, that same worry was directed toward her. What had changed? What made him turn against me and defend her?
Summoning the last of my strength, I told him,
“You’re right. Either she severs her own tendons or dies. Otherwise, I will never forgive her!”
The veins in Yzail’s forehead bulged, his frustration visible. Back when he had called Zolenn a vicious woman for hurting me, he had looked the same.
“She can’t play the piano anymore. Do you really need to be this cruel? I don’t want a fiancée who’s seen as heartless. If you keep holding onto grudges like this, no wonder you don’t have any friends!”
His words, filled with venom, pierced through me. The disgust on his face—how could I have missed it all this time?
So, this was what I had become in his eyes: the cold, friendless woman, while Zolenn became the misunderstood victim of a “thoughtless mistake.”
The man who once vowed to protect me with his life no longer stood by my side. He was gone.
Overcome by pain in my abdomen, I collapsed. Yzail caught me just in time and noticed the bloodstains on my dress. His expression softened as realization dawned on him.
“Now I get it. You’re just upset because you’re on your period, aren’t you? Alright, I won’t push you to apologize today, but don’t act so unreasonable next time.”
Barely able to speak, I whispered, “Take me to the hospital...”
Still thinking I was suffering from menstrual pain, he rummaged through the car for painkillers.
Meanwhile, Zolenn knelt before me, putting on a show of guilt.
“I’m sorry, Lanaya. I didn’t mean to make you so angry!” But before she could complete the act, Yzail rushed over to lift her up.
“Why are you kneeling to her?” he scolded her gently.
Then he turned to me, his voice sharp. “Lanaya, haven’t you caused enough trouble today? You don’t want her to curse herself by kneeling to you, do you?”
As Zolenn feigned fainting in Yzail’s arms, I saw him panic the way he once did for me.
But this time, it was for her.
While he sped through red lights to rush Zolenn to the hospital, I lay on the ground, consumed by the pain and silence.
Later, in the emergency room, the doctor informed me that I needed to be admitted to protect the baby.
I reflexively dialed Yzail’s number, only to realize how ingrained that habit was. Luckily, he didn’t pick up.
After ten years of love, we had finally become strangers.
“No need to save it,” I told the doctor. “I want the surgery today.”
When I awoke after the procedure, my uncle had already arranged a plane ticket for me. The flight was on the day of Yzail’s wedding.
Seven days left—just enough time to leave everything behind. Yzail was right about one thing: life moves forward. From this moment on, I would cut myself off from all the happiness and pain of the past.
Chapter 4
Three days went by without a word from Yzail. He was out of touch, completely silent. Then, unexpectedly, a notification popped up on my phone. Yzail, the man who never posted on social media and scoffed at superstitions, had shared a picture of the goddess of mercy, captioning it: Praying for peace and safety!
Almost immediately, his friends flooded my inbox, asking if I was okay. It was clear he was trying hard to hide the fact that he was switching brides. I replied to everyone, thanking them for their concern, and even liked and commented on his post, saying that sincerity will bring results.
It seemed, just as I had expected, he had gone to a church to pray. Like any devoted couple, he and Zolenn must have knelt together, making their vows. After making a donation, they took a red ribbon and a love lock.
Yzail held Zolenn close as they wrote their wishes side by side. He tied the red ribbon high on an old tree, and then they went to hang the love lock.
When he turned around for a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of his bloodshot eyes, red from worry. It was a look I knew too well. Once, when I was in the hospital, he had stayed by my side, afraid that if he looked away for even a second, something bad might happen to me. Now, that same fear gripped him, but it was for Zolenn and the child she carried.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want children—he just didn’t want my child. That’s why he abandoned me so easily.
When I got home, I gave away all the wedding decorations I had carefully chosen to an elderly woman who collected recyclables. In this home, which had never truly been mine, not a single trace of me remained. All that was left were 500 gigabytes of memories stored on my phone—photos and videos of the few happy moments we had shared. I deleted them all, one by one. As the storage on my phone cleared, so did the weight in my heart.
Once I was done, I made myself some chicken soup. Just as I was about to take a sip, Yzail walked through the door. He cooled the rest of the soup and poured it into a thermos.
“Did you make this for Zolenn? It’ll be great for her recovery,” he said casually.
I didn’t bother to correct him—that by “recovery,” he really meant “nourishing the pregnancy.” Instead, I grabbed the thermos and downed the soup in one go. “If you want some, make it yourself!” I snapped.
His smile froze in place. “Lanaya! You know Zolenn was almost hospitalized because of you. And now you’re so petty, you won’t even give her a bowl of soup?”
“Exactly,” I said without hesitation.
Fuming, Yzail threw the empty thermos into the sink and angrily rolled up his sleeves to make a fresh batch of soup for his precious Zolenn. While it simmered, he busied himself tidying up the house, but it didn’t take long for him to notice something wasn’t right.
“Lanaya, didn’t you buy a lot of wedding stuff? Why isn’t any of it out?” He glanced around, confused. When he reached for his usual glass of water, he realized even my favorite set of matching cups had disappeared.
When I didn’t answer, he frowned and came into the bedroom. “Lanaya, are you having a rough time with your period? You look really pale.”
Finally, the ever-observant Yzail noticed something was off. “You didn’t… you weren’t pregnant, were you?”
His voice was filled with sudden panic, his eyes searching mine for confirmation. I didn’t want to make things more complicated than they already were, so I lied and denied it. The child was gone now, and I didn’t need him mourning or offering fleeting compassion. He didn’t deserve to end things on his terms. He had lost that right.
Relieved by my denial, Yzail’s face softened. “Weren’t you short a bridesmaid? I’ve decided Zolenn can be your bridesmaid.”
“Alright,” I responded calmly.
He looked bewildered, unable to comprehend why I’d snap over a bowl of soup but agree so easily to let Zolenn be part of my wedding. But in reality, I was just playing along, biding my time while I planned my escape.
Satisfied, Yzail gently patted my head. “I’m glad you’ve come around. All my efforts to patch things up between you two haven’t been for nothing.”
He continued with a soft smile, “Once the wedding is over, I’ll take you to see a good doctor. He’s amazing at treating menstrual pain.”
He looked at me with hope. “After that, we’ll get you healthy again, and then we can have our own child.”
I quietly watched him lie, not saying a word. He leaned in and pressed a warm, wet kiss on my cheek.
“If you’re not feeling well, just stay home and rest. I’ll take Zolenn to pick a bridesmaid dress, then come back to keep you company.”
“Okay.”
He left with a thermos of chicken soup, looking all concerned and thoughtful.
Once alone, I stared at myself in the mirror. The spot where he kissed me felt tainted, so I scrubbed at it until it turned red. Only then did I feel slightly less disgusted.
A short while later, the bridal shop owner called me in secret.
“Lanaya, does your husband have a twin brother? Someone who looks exactly like him came in today with a woman to try on your wedding dress. After trying it, he even told me to alter it smaller to fit her. Isn’t that crazy?”
“No, it’s fine. Just do what he said, and have him pay the balance while you're at it.”
Zolenn’s intentions were clearer than ever. She had always tried to take what belonged to me. If she couldn’t take it, she would try to ruin it. This was no different.
The next day, Yzail returned home with two wedding dresses.
“I picked up the dresses. Why don’t you try them on?”
I gave them a quick, dismissive glance before tossing them aside. I didn’t need to look closely to know what was going on.
Yzail, however, gently stroked the dress that had been altered smaller, his eyes filled with a softness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He was lost in thought, likely picturing Zolenn wearing it, walking down the aisle to marry him.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” he said suddenly, “it’s becoming popular for bridesmaids to wear wedding dresses too. It’s supposed to bring good luck.”
“Sure. Thanks for the effort,” I replied, forcing a polite smile.
Though I prefer to keep to myself, I’m no fool. My custom wedding dress had been resized to fit Zolenn. The other dress, the one in my size, was a cheap, knock-off version. In Yzail’s eyes, I was apparently only worthy of wearing something cheap, just to make his beloved Zolenn stand out even more.
When the day of our scheduled wedding registration came, Yzail didn’t mention it at all. He even took the household registration booklet, tucked it into his pocket, and headed out, though not before stopping by the bakery downstairs to bring me some soup dumplings.
“Lanaya, I bought you breakfast. Make sure to eat well and rest up these next few days. In two days, I’ll come and marry you!”
I accepted the breakfast, thanked him, and said “okay.”
Hearing me thank him, Yzail stopped in his tracks.
“Why are you being so polite to me lately?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Are you nervous because the wedding’s so close? Pre-wedding jitters?”
I smiled, playing along. “Maybe.”
He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, then pulled out a chair and sat beside me. He held my left hand, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to start.
“Lanaya, I need to talk to you about something…”
The hesitation and unease in his eyes made me want to pull my hand away. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want him to say he wanted to break up. I didn’t want him to use the debt of saving his life as an excuse to turn me from his bride into his bridesmaid.
“Let go. You’re hurting me,” I said, pulling my hand free.
He glanced down and saw my bare hand—no engagement ring, just an ugly scar. Still, he refused to let go.
“Lanaya, what if I told you…”
His expression was as if he were about to take a leap of faith, and my heart raced with fear.
Just then, his phone rang.
It was his alarm, reminding him it was time to go to the Civil Affairs Bureau.
Hurriedly, he silenced the phone, flustered and stumbling over his words.
“Lanaya, the engagement ring you liked was bought by someone else. I’ve ordered a custom one, but it won’t be ready for a while.”
“You’re not mad at me for messing things up, are you?”
I shook my head.
“It’s fine.”
His phone rang again, and with one glance at it, he got up to leave.
“There are still a few wedding details I need to sort out. I might not have time to be with you these next few days,” he said in passing.
“Once we’re married, we’ll take the most beautiful photo for our marriage certificate,” he added, lying more naturally with each word.
Without waiting for a reply, he rushed out.
The day before the wedding, he came home again, this time with the household registration booklet and a card.
When he handed me the card, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Is this my dowry?”
He froze for a moment, then broke into a wide smile, showing all his teeth.
“This is my sincerity, to thank you for showing up tomorrow.”
He didn’t say what role I would be playing, and I didn’t ask. We both knew. He thought that with a breakup fee, I’d obediently step aside and let Zolenn take my place at the altar.
The next day, I cut that card and the wedding dress into pieces. Then, I packed my things and headed straight for the airport.
As the flight attendant announced it was time to turn off our phones, I sent him the message I’d written long ago.
“Consider your life debt repaid.”
A second later, his calls started flooding in.