- 02.
The driver was silent for a long time, probably confused by the sight of a bride leaving a chapel alone.
When we finally arrived at Gull Cove, I pulled out my phone to pay, but the driver waved it away.
Mewn need.
Miss, take it easy. As long as you’re still alive, there’s no obstacle you can’t overcome…
I didn’t cry when Tristan left with his first love.
I didn’t cry under the weight of all the judgmental stares at the wedding.
But the driver’s unexpected, kind words shattered my defenses,
Once he left, I collapsed on the ground and cried, my heart aching with every sob.
Yes, there’s no obstacle I can’t overcome.
But I’m about to dic.
I walked along the muddy path at Gull Cove for a long time until I finally reached the familiar, run–down apartment building.
Room 203.
That’s where Tristan and I spent our hardest three years.
<
Dragging my mud–stained wedding dress, I silently pulled out the key and twisted it in the rusty lock. It creaked, loudly, as the door finally opened.
The door next to me swung open too.
Mrs. Hattie Greene, the e woman with her hair in rollers, pecked her head out, looking me up and down for a while.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up as she asked, “Lana?”
I forced a smile and nodded.
Mrs. Greene rushed out, her apron still on, grabbing my hand with warmth.
“Do o you remember me?”
“I’m Mrs. Greene! I lived next door when you two stayed here…..
Of course, I remembered.
Back then, Tristan and I would come home late from work. On nights we were too tired to cook, Mrs. Greene would pull us into her house to eat
dinner with her.
She was warm and kind, reminiscing about old times.
“So, where’s that young man? You two must be married by now, right?”
As she continued talking, her gaze finally landed on my pale face, tear–filled eyes, and the mud–streaked wedding gown.
She stood there, stunned for a long moment, before gently patting my back.
“It’s okay, dear. There are plenty of good men out there.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find someone better for you”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced back the tears that threatened to fall, After saying goodbye to Mrs. Greene, I stepped into the tiny apartment.
This place, full of memories Tristan and I shared.
The room was small.
Just a double bed, a dust–covered table, and a worn–out panda plushie.
This was everything Tristan had given me
I sat on the bed, running my fingers over the stuffed panda, and tears poured out.
“Don’t cry, Lana. Tristan was wrong?
“Don’t cry, Lana. Tristan was wrong.
The broken, mechanical voice repeated, blinking its dim light.
It was from my first birthday with Tristan.
I had cooked noodles at home, waiting excitedly for him to come back.
ver showed up that night.
e finally returned the next afternoon, his eyes were red, and he looked completely worn out
<
Maybe out of guilt, he gave me the panda plushie.
I was so happy back then.
Tristan’s panda… I loved it so much.
But later, I found out his first love’s name was Rachel Whitmore.
The panda said “Lana,” but it wasn’t for me.
It was for Rachel.
That night wasn’t just my birthday. It was also Rachel’s birthday.
He had spent the whole night running around, trying to ship the panda overseas to her.
But because the plushie had a lithium battery inside, he couldn’t send it by air.
So Tristan brought it back and threw it to me like trash.
The panda was pitiful, discarded like garbage.
And my love? Just as worthless.
