A month before the wedding, Julian went missing, and I searched the whole city but couldn't find him.

On the seventh day of his disappearance, I received news that he had appeared in Santa Monica.

I flew there overnight.

On a cruise ship, I finally saw him.

Just as I was about to knock and enter, I heard his sneer: "I only went after Charlotte to intentionally disgust Arthur."

"Now that I have her, I actually find it boring."

I stopped in my tracks.

He didn't sound drunk; rather, he was completely sober.

Therefore, the cruelest words came out of his mouth: "Besides, after getting a taste of her, I found it quite dull."

An ambiguous wave of laughter echoed around him.

"Only Julian could conquer such an untouchable flower."

Julian seemed to enjoy the flattery and continued: "Even though she chased Arthur like her life depended on it, she was incredibly pure. What a pity..."

"A pity about what?"

Julian slowly exhaled a puff of smoke: "It's a pity that although I was her first man, I wasn't the first man she loved."

"She loved Arthur for ten years. Who knows if her heart is truly clean of him?"

"If Arthur wasn't my sworn enemy, and if I didn't want to get Charlotte just to spite him, I wouldn't have bothered playing the role of the deeply affectionate man silently guarding her."

Someone teased: "You've had her for three years now. Why is Julian suddenly getting sentimental?"

Julian looked annoyed, his voice turning cold: "It's exactly because I chased her for so long that I feel unsatisfied."

Someone in the crowd continued: "I heard she's looking everywhere for you, going half-mad. You've been gone for so many days, is it really okay?"

Julian took a drag of his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke with a sneer: "Wouldn't it be fun to ditch the wedding and humiliate her?"

I didn't see a single trace of guilt, pity, or love in his expression.

Instead, it was the look of a grand revenge achieved.

The look of finally reaching this very day.

My fingertips dug into my palms, and my heart felt like it was being pierced by needles, an agonizing, suffocating pain.

I had always thought Julian would be my salvation and my final destination.

I had even made sure my feelings for him were true love, not just gratitude, before I said yes to him.

That day, he was so happy he set off fireworks across the entire city.

After three years together, he bought an island in my name to propose to me, filling the sky with fireworks.

I thought it was love, that it was romance.

I never expected it was all just an act to take revenge on Arthur.

So, were those ten-plus years of deep affection and support all just a performance?

In a daze, I recalled some memories from the past.

At twelve, I was brought back to the Bennett family from a small southern town, feeling restless, inferior, and timid.

Back then, Arthur merely shielded me from bullying, and I fell hopelessly in love with him.

I chased after him until everyone knew about it.

But he was utterly disgusted by me.

Later, I finally found it entirely pointless, and I gave up on him.

I finally saw Julian, who had been silently protecting me all along.

It was raining heavily that night, and he held an umbrella over me the whole time.

He said: "Charlotte, I don't ask for you to see me. I only ask that you live freely and follow your heart from now on."

How ridiculous.

I swept my heart clean to welcome Julian's arrival.

Just as I was sinking step by step into his tenderness.

Just as I started to fantasize about a sweet future with him.

I never expected that I was merely giving him the chance to slice my heart to pieces.

Cut by cut.

Dripping with blood.

A sour sting rushed to my nose, and an uncontrollable ache filled my eyes.

A tear fell, which I quickly wiped away.

The voices inside continued, all offering him ideas: "To take revenge on a woman, naturally you have to let her fall hard into the abyss right at her happiest moment. Isn't that much more interesting?"

"Exactly, so Julian, you should go back. You need to go back and accompany her to pick out a wedding dress, you need to send out the invitations with her, you need to act completely normal. Then, on the day of the wedding, leave her all alone to be humiliated. I bet Charlotte will definitely go crazy."

It was full of disgusting laughter.

I fought back my nausea and waited for Julian's reply.

How I wished to hear from his mouth: Stop joking around, I love Charlotte.

Or perhaps: Doing this to a girl is taking it too far.

But after a long silence.

I heard Julian agree in a deep voice: "Yeah, that's a good idea. Let's go with that."

The boundless anger pressed down on me until I could barely breathe.

I forced a dismal smile, but the tears still fell recklessly.

Julian, you want to play, do you?

Then I'll play along with your act. I'd also love to see the look on your face on our wedding day when you realize I've run away.

I erased all traces of my trip to Santa Monica and returned to the marital home I shared with Julian.

I took out all the gifts he had given me over the years and destroyed them one by one with scissors.

How strange.

Even though I wasn't thinking about anything at all, why were there still so many tears falling?

I once heard a saying.

A broken heart is like catching rheumatism; on sunny days, everything seems fine.

But at night, the damp cold seeps into your bones, and the pain is excruciating.

Perhaps this is just my withdrawal symptom.

I stood up and laid the custom-made wedding dress flat on the floor.

Expressionless, I sliced a jagged tear into it with the scissors.

I needed to remind myself.

Relationships are the same; once a rift appears, no matter how you try to mend it, it can never go back to the way it was.

After cleaning everything up, I put these things in the study, a room Julian rarely entered.

Lying in bed with no desire to sleep, I was scrolling through short videos when I came across a recommendation for someone I might know.

The username was [Me Who Loves Julian].

Driven by some inexplicable impulse, I clicked on it.

It was a record of a girl's secret crush on a boy.

In her latest post, her location was set to Santa Monica.

The caption read: [The man I've loved for ten years is getting married next month. I want to gather the courage to confess my feelings. Wish me luck.]

In the accompanying photo, I saw a familiar hand.

There was a wedding ring on the ring finger.

It was Julian.

I didn't get any news from Julian, but I received a call from Arthur instead.

"Guess who I ran into in Santa Monica?"

"Arthur, I don't care. Stop calling me from different numbers."

Just as I was about to hang up, I heard the suppressed smugness beneath his voice:

"Charlotte, don't you know why Julian has been missing for so long?

He doesn't want to marry you.

He minds the fact that you used to chase after me."

"He only approached you on purpose to get back at me.

He's not someone you can rely on at all."

"What exactly are you trying to say?"

I was already getting a little impatient.

"Charlotte, at least besides you liking me for ten years, there are no other girls around me..."

I sat up and raised my voice: "Arthur, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Five years have passed, and you're still so keen on driving a wedge between him and me."

"But let me tell you, no matter what, this is my choice. I accept the consequences of my gamble, and I will never look back."

Arthur fell silent for a moment, then answered with something completely unrelated: "I sent you something. You'll be interested."

After hanging up, I received a video.

Under the dim lighting, a girl and Julian stood face to face.

He blew out a smoke ring, his expression as careless as ever.

Amidst the cheering crowd, the girl stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips.

And he didn't dodge.

The video ended there.

I opened the girl's social media account.

She had already updated her status: [How is this not a success?]

The accompanying picture was a photo of the two of them kissing.

I felt so sick I wanted to throw up, running to the bathroom and hugging the toilet, dry heaving for a long time.

Then I remembered I hadn't eaten all day—what could I possibly throw up?

At this moment, the pain in my stomach made me spasm uncontrollably.

I forced myself through the pain and got into bed, curling up into a ball.

Suddenly, I remembered when Julian and I first made our relationship official; I wanted to see the stars at the top of the mountain in the middle of the night.

Without asking a single question, he indulged my little whim and drove me to the peak overnight.

The midnight air was slightly chilly. He held me gently, his body heat transferring to me, as he leaned in and asked carefully: "The moonlight is so beautiful, Charlotte, can I kiss you?"

In the end, we could never go back.

I slept groggily until midnight when noises came from the living room.

I broke out in a cold sweat, lacking the strength to get up.

The next second, the bedroom light turned on.

The blinding light made it impossible to open my eyes.

I heard Julian's anxious voice: "Charlotte, what's wrong?"

At 7 a.m., I woke up in the hospital.

I saw Julian holding my hand, his face haggard, looking like he had stayed by my side all night.

He got up to pour me some water: "Do you just ruin your body like this when I'm not around?

Your stomach has always been bad. Do you have a death wish, huh?"

He questioned me.

You see, how ridiculous.

During the week I spent looking for him, I couldn't eat or sleep, and I lost five pounds.

I kept thinking maybe Julian had offended someone in the business world and gotten kidnapped.

I was terrified, unable to sleep every night, my tears soaking the pillow.

Yet he was out having a great time somewhere else with a clear conscience, even kissing a young girl.

"Not going to speak?"

Julian had a smile in his eyes as he pinched my cheek. "You know I'll punish you, right?"

"Alright, get up and eat something."

"Your husband went home and made this porridge for you.

Stayed up all night doing it."

He acted as if nothing had happened, helping me sit up and feeding me spoonful by spoonful.

Several times, I wanted to open my mouth and ask him.

Julian, aren't you tired of acting?

Or tell him, Julian, I heard your conversation. If you don't want to get married, we can cancel the wedding right now; we haven't registered the marriage anyway.

But I forced the words back down my throat.

I also really wanted to know, after loving each other for so many years, why would he treat me like this?

Just because I once liked someone else, do I no longer deserve to be loved?

--

"Sweetheart, why are you crying?"

He set the bowl down and frantically wiped away my tears. "I was wrong. Your husband was wrong, okay?"

I lowered my gaze and slowly closed my eyes, only to fall into Julian's embrace.

He gently stroked my back and began to explain: "Baby, I'm sorry for making you worry."

"I was just a little too overwhelmed. Knowing I'm going to marry you, I couldn't believe it for a moment. I was afraid it was a dream, so I wanted to clear my head. I'm sorry I didn't tell you beforehand.

Will you forgive me?"

Liar.

"We're getting married in twenty days. I'll stay home and keep you company during this time, so you can be my most beautiful bride, okay?"

But Julian, we don't have a future anymore.

He wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs.

When those peach-blossom eyes stared at you, they made you feel like he was so deeply in love.

"I'm going out for a smoke. We'll leave the hospital in a bit."

Julian was perhaps too at ease with me.

Or perhaps he wasn't afraid I would overthink things. After all, he was just doing what his buddy had suggested—putting on a show of deep affection.

So, I picked up his phone, which had been constantly lighting up with notifications.

The password was my birthday.

I had always known, but I had never snooped.

Unlocking the phone, I saw a flurry of messages from a girl named "Peach Princess."

She was added yesterday.

[Julian, you got back so late. You should go home and rest early.]

[I heard Julian is getting married. Can you send me an invitation? I want to share in the joy too.]

[When I got off the plane, I saw you clutching your stomach. Were you feeling unwell?]

[I stayed up all night to make millet porridge for you. It's good for your stomach! Praise me, quick!]

He hadn't replied to any of the previous ones, except for this one.

He replied: [Send it to this address.]

I turned my head to look at the pink thermos on the table, and my stomach churned again.

The girl kept sending messages after that:

[Are you sick? Is it serious? Let me stay at the hospital with you, okay?]

[When you finish the porridge, I'll make some more.]

[Julian, you need to take care of yourself.]

[Sitting in the lobby all night made my legs go numb, and my stomach hurts so much from my period.]

I locked the phone and marked the messages as unread.

Then I rolled out of bed.

In the lobby, sure enough, I saw Julian.

And that young girl from yesterday.

Through the crowd, I quietly watched them talking and laughing.

The girl was gesturing animatedly, her ponytail bouncing up and down.

I didn't know what they were talking about, but she pouted and touched her stomach, and Julian reached out and ruffled her hair.

For a moment, I felt like the other woman secretly spying on them.

From the kiss last night, to the hair-ruffling today.

It seemed Julian really liked her.

I suppose so.

Who wouldn't like someone who quietly treated them well, asked for nothing in return, and had eyes only for them?

I gave a self-deprecating smile.

Turning the corner, I ran into Arthur.

He stepped out from the shadows, his dark gaze fixed in Julian's direction: "This is the rival you chose for me?"

I met his eyes directly: "Don't flatter yourself."

"Charlotte, why did you stop chasing me back then?"

I found it baffling. I had chased him for ten years—wasn't that enough?

Ever since I stopped, he'd started showing up constantly to make his presence known.

Perhaps he didn't even like me at all. Just like Julian, it was merely his bruised ego acting up.

"Even like this, you're still going to marry him?"

Arthur asked me.

I twitched my lips: "Mind your own business."

"I gave up on you a long time ago. I really, truly don't want to see you."

I brushed past him.

Arthur asked: "Even if he has someone else, you don't care?"

I did care. I pressed a hand over my heart.

It hurt a little.

But I knew that one day, it would heal.

Twenty more days, Charlotte. Just endure it.