Chapter 1

Darren and I had been together for six years, during which I had grown from a carefree young woman into someone nearing 30. Despite pressure from my family to marry, Darren kept putting it off. Just when I was about to give up hope, he proposed publicly a few weeks ago. We had chosen this day as our special day. Just two days ago, Mom called me, saying excitedly, "CeeCee, I checked with a fortune teller. They said the day after tomorrow is perfect for registering your marriage!" I agreed with a smile, and Darren overheard the conversation. He pulled me close, affectionately telling me that he would follow my lead in this matter. Yet yesterday, as the big day approached, he was suddenly packing for a trip. Before departing, Darren even stroked my head lovingly and assured me, "Don't worry, it's just for a day. I'll be back in time for tomorrow, I promise." His calm gaze worked its charm, and I swallowed the questions I wanted to ask. After that, I saw him off at the airport while maintaining a happy facade. Even last night, he insisted he was already at the airport for his return flight when I called. I woke up early, applied light makeup, and headed to the courthouse with my documents. I was eager and hopeful for our future, envisioning our happy life together. As time ticked by, the fresh roses I held gradually wilted. I called Darren countless times, but there was no answer. Concerned something might have happened, I called his coworker, who was supposedly on a trip with him too. As I casually inquired about the trip, I discovered there was no such thing at all. "I heard Mr. Preston took a week off just to prepare for the wedding. Don't forget to invite me!" I forced a laugh and responded, "Of course." Then, I hung up the call. Despite everything, a part of me still clung to the hope that Darren might be planning a surprise. Sadly, I returned home only to find the place empty and dark. No surprise awaited me. I slumped into the chair, trying to figure out what Darren was up to. As my mind wandered, a sudden notification brought me back to the present. It was a message from Darren, "Something came up at work, and I can't make it back. Let's reschedule." "Okay," I replied simply before opening Instagram. There, I saw a post from Darren's childhood friend. The caption read, "Thanks for the birthday gift, Darren!" It was taken at a tropical beach, with a woman in a sexy swimsuit under palm trees, wearing a sun hat and carrying a limited-edition handbag. From the reflection in her sunglasses, I could see a muscular man taking her photo. It was unmistakably Darren. So, this was what he meant by something had come up at work. I scrolled through the comments, which were flooded with envy as they wished they had someone like Darren in their lives. I could not help but laugh bitterly at how foolish I was. Just moments ago, I had been worried something had happened to him. Even when I discovered he was lying, I was still making excuses for him. If someone needed an example of a fool, they could just point at me. My chest ached as the memories of our six years together flashed through my mind. Throughout our sweet moments together, there had always been an unwelcome third party—his childhood friend, Lily Park. Lily was orphaned at a young age and raised by Darren's family. The two grew up like siblings, sharing a close bond that often overshadowed my relationship with Darren. There were countless times Darren dropped everything for her. On my birthday, Darren abandoned me mid-candle-blow because Lily mentioned a power outage at her place. During our dates, he would bring her along, claiming he could not leave her alone. Even when he proposed, he bought her a dress from the same collection as mine, saying she liked it too. As memories flooded back, I recalled every argument about Lily that Darren had dismissed by saying she was just like a sister to him. The word now left a bitter taste in my mouth. My heart sank as I realized Darren was on a tropical getaway with his so-called "sister" while I was waiting alone at the courthouse. I had wasted six years of my life with him. How many more could I waste? Growing up without a father, I had always longed for a complete family and wanted to provide the same for my future children. I wiped away the tears that had unknowingly fallen, managing a bitter smile. After liking the post, I messaged my friend, "Remember that blind date you mentioned? Set it up for me." Meanwhile, Darren returned home three days later. He stood in the entryway with his luggage, expecting me to greet him. I sat expressionless on the couch, not sparing him a glance. Noticing my indifference, he said first, "Cassie, I'm home." I mumbled a response, continuing to watch TV. Darren could tell something was off, and he approached me after hanging his snow-covered coat. He pulled me into his arms and asked softly, "Are you mad at me? Cassie, I'm sorry. The project was complicated." I listened to his heartbeat, which was steady even when lying. I said flatly, "I saw Lily's post." I didn't hesitate to expose him as I watched his reaction. I noticed that his face was clouded with annoyance at the mention of her name. His voice was tinged with impatience as he replied, "Lily just happened to be there. I celebrated her birthday with her since I was around. How many times do I have to tell you? She's like a sister to me." Just as I expected, he stuck to his usual excuse. "So, you had time to celebrate her birthday but couldn't spare a moment to call me?" I asked, struggling to keep my voice steady. When I could not reach him, I became worried about his safety. Yet this was the response he gave me. I felt a lump in my throat, but I tried to compose myself, refusing to let myself cry in front of him. Darren pressed his lips and stubbornly replied, "What difference does it make if I told you earlier or later? We couldn't register our marriage anyway." As I looked at the man I had spent six years with, disappointment washed over me. I could not find the energy to argue anymore. Just then, the doorbell rang. It was Lily, holding a large bag. She smiled sweetly at me and said, "Oh? Cassie, you're here too! I brought Darren's luggage, which he left at my place." As she extended the bag to me, I noticed the rosary she was wearing—identical to the one Darren had given me years ago. The sight of it sent a chill through my heart. Darren got me the rosary when he joined a 90-day pilgrimage. He even voluntarily fasted and abstained during that time. I thought the rosary was precious, a testament to his dedication and sincerity. I was moved to tears when he gave it to me. He even said, "It's blessed by the priest, and I hope it can always keep you safe." Apparently, what I thought was a gesture of deep love was not as unique as I had believed—he had given one to Lily too. "I'm sorry, Cassie," Lily said, tilting her head apologetically with an innocent look in her eyes.