Calla picked up a new dress, her voice light and coaxing. “Amara, would you like to try this? It’s perfect for the beach, and goes beautifully with champagne.”

I stepped back, shaking my head. “No. I’ve already chosen. Take your time.”

She faltered, her expression turning soft with wounded innocence. “Are you upset because I’m upset? Then… I’ll just leave first.”

Before she could turn, Victor caught her wrist. “Amara, that’s not what I meant. She doesn’t need to go.” His gaze fixed sharply on me. “Calla will be your bridesmaid. Don’t be so aggressive—you’ll only scare her.”

I froze. Bridesmaid? Since when was that decided? Shouldn’t I be the one to choose? But then, he had already changed the wedding venue without asking. Why would this be any different?

Expressionless, I said, “That’s just how I am. Whether you like it or not is your choice.”

Both of them stared at me, startled by my seriousness. Calla’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Forget it. I’ll leave. Better if I disappear from your sight.”

But Victor Hale only tightened his grip, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Amara, you’re about to be married. Why are you still acting so childish? Ever since the date was set, you’ve been sulking nonstop—do you find that fun?”

“Victor, don’t be like that…” Calla murmured, leaning closer as if to soothe him.

He pulled away, his voice rising. “Don’t try to persuade me. I’ve had enough! Amara, throw your tantrums if you want—but don’t say I didn’t try. You’ve cried yourself blind with jealousy!”

The store fell silent. Even the clerk bowed his head awkwardly.

Cold seeped into my chest. So in his eyes, my blindness was nothing more than jealousy.

I had hoped he’d remember the meaning of our snowy mountain wedding. But every time Calla claimed “low blood sugar” or “headache,” he abandoned me to rush to her side. When I burned with a 39-degree fever, he told me, Drink hot water, I’ll come later, and never showed up—because he was out shopping with her.

When I dared to complain, he scolded me. Why are you so naïve? Calla really needs me.

On our anniversary, he promised to watch the sunrise with me. I prepared a gift. He forgot. It’s just a date. Why make such a fuss?

But for Calla’s birthday, he reserved a restaurant a month in advance, bought a gift, and posted online: Happy birthday to the person who matters most to me.

Looking back, I realized I should have left long ago.

I turned to go. Behind me, Victor muttered, “She’s probably just suffering from pre-wedding anxiety. Don’t argue with a patient.”

Through the glass, I saw him feed Calla a cream puff, their hands still entwined. They looked perfect together.

That evening, his voice message came: Amara, don’t be angry. I’m busy with work, and I still have to care for both of you. Please try to understand. We’ll be husband and wife soon—I hope you’ll be more considerate.

His words were slurred, a little drunk, a little self-pitying.

I didn’t want to listen anymore. In his world, he was always the one who suffered most.

Fine. I would grant his wish—and lighten his burden completely.

The day before the wedding, Victor finally lost his temper and called me.

“Amara, have you confirmed the wedding procedures…?”

I hummed softly, folding clothes into my suitcase for the flight to the snowy mountains. “Yeah. I’ve checked everything.”

Victor let out a breath, visibly relieved. “That’s good… that’s good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow.”

The next morning, I slipped into my wedding dress. Not the one he had chosen for me—mine.

A car engine roared outside, followed by the shrill ring of my phone. Victor’s voice came hurried and anxious.

“Amara, Calla twisted her ankle. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I can’t pick you up. Just head to the venue first—it’s just a formality. I’ll be there later.”

“Okay,” I answered calmly.

He hesitated, sensing something strange in my tone. “You… aren’t angry?”

“No. Go ahead.”

When the call ended, he exhaled in relief and reached over to Calla in the passenger seat. “Does it hurt? Hold on, we’ll be at the hospital soon.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m sorry… it’s my fault. I made you leave your bride waiting.”

“Don’t say that.” He clasped her hand. “You’re hurt. How could I just ignore you?”

But unease pricked at him. My voice had been too calm. Maybe Amara has finally come around, he reassured himself. I’ll make it up to her during the honeymoon.

At the Golden Coast beach, the Hale family’s guests filled the seats. But none of my family or friends were present.

Victor arrived with Calla and froze at the sight. Panic struck. “No… Amara didn’t realize the venue had changed…”

He called me. No answer. Again and again, checking his watch, his face darkening. Finally, I picked up.

“Amara! Why aren’t you here yet? Everyone’s waiting!”

I gazed through the church window, where snowflakes swirled in the wind. “I’ve been here for a while.”