He looked at me this pale, worn–out version of myself–and then back at the polished, glowing Rachel standing beside him.
“Lana Brooks, what are you doing here?”
His voice was sharp, laced with irritation.
Every time Tristan used to speak to me like this, I would always try to soothe him, bending over backward to make him happy, afraid to upset
him further.
I guess he still thought he could use that same tone to control me.
“Lana, don’t you
get it? I never loved you.”
“I was only with you because you k looked like her.”
Tristan stepped down from the stage and stood before me.
His words were like knives, slicing through my heart, leaving it bleeding and raw.
Around us, there were whispers guests at the wedding, cold and detached, watching the scene unfold like they were witnessing a scandal.
“Haha, what a joke! She got dumped and still has the nerve to show up here. I’ve never seen anyone so shameless.”
“Yeah, if I were her, I’d have ended it already. So pathetic.”
Their cruel words pierced my ea
cars, sending fresh waves of pain through my chest.
saw stars flashing in front of my eyes, and I almost collapsed right there.
But Tristan didn’t reach out to catch me. Instead, he sneered, looking me up and down.
“Lana, look at yourself. How could I have ever been with you? You’re nothing compared to Rachel.”
I stood there, unable to find the words to respond, staring at the man whose face had once been so familiar to me.
This was the man who had once held my hand and told me, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”
Now, he looked at me like I was nothing, telling me, “You’re not even close to Rachel”
Through the wedding hall’s glass doors, I caught a glimpse of my reflection.
1 barely recognized myself.
My skin was pale, my lips blue, my hair a tangled mess. I looked worn and weathered–like I was forty, not twenty–seven.
I used to be vibrant, full of life.
But years of helping Tristan climb to the top, of putting his needs before my own, had taken their toll on me. I hadn’t cared for myself, hadn’t spent money on anything frivolous, hadn’t rested.
All for him.
And now, he looked at me with nothing but disgust.
But Tristan, everything I am now, I became for you.
The wedding hall buzzed with activity.
The man who was supposed to be my husband was up on that stage, and yet I stood here, feeling like nothing more than an unwanted guest.
The system’s cold, emotionless voice rang in my ears.
“Host, I’m sorry to say, but the countdown has started.”
“One minute left.”
One minute?
I felt a crushing grip on my heart, squeezing tighter and tighter, as if someone was trying to rip it out of my chest.
