Becky pretended to defend me, putting on a show. “Oh, come on, that’s not nice. Girls’ heart are delicate. Even a simplest thing could make them upset. You should’ve said that to your fiancé.” 

“You’re a girl. But you don’t get upset so easily. What was the deal?” Derick replied.

Becky covered her mouth, laughing quietly. Her eyes gleamed with a smug satisfaction as she glanced at me, savoring her small victory.

I let it go, not wanting to bother exposing her. I didn’t even feel the need. This wedding, this whole thing, was just to fulfill my father’s last wish—to see me settled, happy. As for Derick and whoever he wanted to keep close? I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore.

The boutique was nearly empty when we walked in, the assistant immediately rushing over to greet us. But instead of me, the bride-to-be, they focused on Derick and Becky.

“What kind of gown would you like, miss?” the assistant asked eagerly.

Becky burst out laughing. “Oh, no, you’ve got the wrong person. I’m not the bride; I’m his best friend. She’s the one he’s marrying.” She pointed back at me, a few steps behind them.

The assistant’s expression turned awkward, as if trying to make sense of why Becky was attached to Derick’s arm while I lingered in the background. Derick cleared his throat, sensing the awkwardness. He tried to gesture for me to join him, but I subtly stepped aside, evading his hand that hovered mid-air, uncertain.

“I’ll go look around,” I said, shrugging casually.

Derick looked a little caught off guard, like he was about to say something, but then Becky took his arm and led him to sit down on the couch.

I picked a dress quickly. Whatever the sales associate said was popular, I chose without a second thought.

As soon as I got into the fitting room, I could hear movement from the stall next to mine. I took a deep breath, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and unease. It was a little silly, really, to feel nervous over this moment after four years together. Derick and I had passed by this bridal shop so many times. He used to say that when he finally saw me in a wedding dress, he’d be so moved that he might cry.

But now, as I stepped out in a diamond-studded gown, he only gave me a quick glance, his expression unchanging. “So tacky,” he muttered. “You’re not a teenage anymore. Why would you pick something so gaudy?”

I didn’t bother arguing, already reaching for my phone to get a picture taken.

The curtain next to me opened, and Becky stepped out wearing an off-the-shoulder gown with a low-cut back. Her dress sparkled twice as much as mine.

And Derick—he was speechless, unable to tear his eyes away from her, his gaze growing almost misty. Becky, sensing his reaction, smirked and put on an act. “What’s the matter? Did I surprise you? Tell me, who looks better—me or your fiancée?”

Only then did Derick’s eyes drift back to me, as if remembering my existence, and he blurted without hesitation, “You look better.”

Becky playfully slapped his arm, scolding him. “Idiot! You’re supposed to compliment your fiancée at a time like this. You really got no rizz, do you?”

Realizing his blunder, Derick looked at me, a bit embarrassed. I just lowered my gaze, focused on sending a picture of the dress to my parents. Once I got their response, I didn’t bother saying anything more and turned back to the fitting room to change.

When I came out, Becky was pulling Derick into selfies, giggling as he posed in an absurd tuxedo with a dramatic tailcoat. He’d always been averse to dressing up. Even during our shopping trips, he’d never tried on anything, not even once. But now, here he was, fully dressed up, laughing like a carefree teenager. 

Four years together, and he wouldn’t even try on clothes for me. So that was it—his so-called “rules” applied only to me. With that realization, I grabbed my purse, ready to leave. Just as I reached the door, Derick called after me.

“Penny, I don’t have all day for dress-fitting. We can’t go to check on another shops.”

“I’m fine with the last one,” I replied quickly.

He frowned. “I wasn’t saying you can’t try another one. Go look around. Take your time.”

I shook my head. “No need. I’m good with this one.”

We wouldn’t be having a real wedding, anyway. Why waste anymore time?

He tossed his tie at me, his eyes cold. “You’re still mad because I didn’t meet your parents? You’ve been giving me attitude ever since. Seriously, is it necessary?”

“You should be grateful I’m here today at all. What more do you want?”

I tried to keep my expression neutral, to stop my brows from furrowing, wanting to tell him it was fine—that none of this mattered anymore. But then I thought about my father, about the little time he had left, and I took a steadying breath.

“Don’t worry about meeting my family. Let’s move the wedding up. How about three days from now?” If we did that, I could leave as soon as possible and be with my dad.

He let out a mocking laugh, seemingly enjoying the challenge. “Fine, if that’s what you want. But don’t expect anything fancy!”

“Alright.”

“We’ll do it at my place. You know my parents aren’t exactly thrilled about you. And your parents? Better if they don’t come.”

“Fine by me.”

No matter what conditions he set, I agreed calmly. His expression shifted, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. “Penny, what’s wrong with you? You’re not acting like yourself.”

Not acting like myself? I almost laughed. That was probably because he didn’t know me anymore.

There was a time when I would’ve trusted him without question. He used to tell me that his relationship with Becky was purely platonic, just a friendship that had lasted for years, and I believed him. He promised he would marry me and that I could always be myself around him. I believed that too.

And what did I get for believing in him? Night after night, he didn’t come home, crossing boundaries with Becky as if they didn’t exist. He refused to meet my parents, using the excuse of a stripped-down wedding to pressure me. He made fun of my taste, mocked the town I came from. 

Whoever I’d fallen in love with—whatever I’d once cherished in him—had vanished long ago. Now there was nothing left but an empty shell.

I was about to respond when Becky spoke up, her voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t worry, Derick. She’s probably just got cold feet. This is when you’re supposed to comfort her. You don’t want her to change mind, would you? What if she backed out—wouldn’t that drive you nuts?”

“Back out? She’s almost thirty. Who else would want to marry a leftover woman like her if not me? ” Derick’s expression hardened, and his tone dripped with disdain.

Becky feigned surprise, playfully slapping his arm. “Hey! I’m almost thirty too. Do you call me leftover?”

Derick’s face softened instantly, trying to backtrack. “Of course not. You’re different. Guys are lining up for you. But Penny? She’s not exactly in demand. She should be grateful to have me. While you, you get to pick and choose. But if you don’t take any them there’s still…”

He trailed off, leaving the suggestion hanging in the air. I tightened my grip on my purse, the familiar sensation of heartbreak barely stinging this time. For once, my heart didn’t ache. I had finally learned to let go, to detach myself from the pain.

“You’re right. I should thank you for your generosity.” My smile felt distant, as if it were someone else’s wedding we were talking about, not mine.

Derick stared at me, stunned, still watching as I walked away. When I got home, I began packing my things, calling for a courier to take the boxes. Four years of my life, and all I had barely filled two boxes. When Derick returned later, he arrived just as the courier was leaving with my things. He looked alarmed, as if panicked by what he saw.

“What’s with the boxes? Why’d you call a courier service?”

My reply came easily, as casual as could be. “Just sending some gifts to my parents.”

He opened his mouth to ask more, but right then, his phone lit up with a notification—a game invite. Instantly, his attention shifted.

I knew it was from Becky. She’d posted just minutes earlier, hinting at a wild night of singlehood for Derick before he “settled down,” planning two straight days of gaming with him to celebrate his “last days of freedom.”

Derick said he’d be out on a business trip for two days and didn’t want to be disturbed before the wedding. I didn’t call him out; I just mumbled an acknowledgment and shut the door.

On the wedding day, there was no bridal procession, no family or friends in attendance. The large, old mansion wasn’t decorated at all. Not a single thing represent wedding on sight. When I arrived in a simple white dress, I found the lively Larsen family gathered around Becky, chatting animatedly. They glanced at me—disinterested, even. No one made an effort to approach, especially Mrs. Montgomery who was sitting at the head of the table.

In the past, I would’ve gone out of my way to win her approval, even if it meant enduring countless humiliations. But now, I understood: if Derick truly wanted to marry me, he wouldn’t allow me to be treated with such disdain.

Derick came down the stairs, a smudge of lipstick still visible on his collar. Everyone noticed, and mocking glances immediately turned toward me. Ignoring them, I took a picture of the scene to send to my parents. Derick didn’t seem to care either; he simply looked me up and down and asked, “Why aren’t you wearing your wedding dress?”

I stared at him in silence, and it took him a moment to realize he wasn’t dressed for the occasion either.

Once everyone gathered, we moved to the lawn for the vows. Just as Derick took the microphone, his low whisper of "Becky" echoed through the crowd. His gaze and Becky’s were like magnets, locked together even from across the crowd. People murmured, probably wondering if I’d react.

I just gave a small smile, interrupting Derick before he could continue. I slowly removed the plain ring from my finger, walked up to Becky, who was practically glowing with satisfaction, and stopped just a few feet away. Derick tensed up and rushed over to shield her.

“Penny, what are you doing?” he demanded.

I didn’t explain. I just stopped a few inches away, gently placed the ring in Becky’s hand, and said, “This ring was always a bit loose. Guess it was never really meant for me.”

I had seen him painstakingly make it over countless nights, and although it was a bit loose when he gave it to me, my tears flowed down my cheek. I was so happy.  Then I found the engraving inside and realized the ring was never meant for me. I kept staring at it, noticing the initials—B, not P—just like the gift I had given him for his birthday, which I’d thought was a mistake at first. 

“You two are a perfect match. I wish you a lifetime of happiness together,” I said to them.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, and Derick, now furious, snatched the ring back and accused me, “Penny, are you crazy? Becky and I are friends! I’ve told you that. Why do you have to make a scene and ruin our wedding?”

“If you mess this up, there won’t be another one.” His tone turned cold. 

The old me would’ve apologized immediately, begging him not to break up with me. For years, I’d dreamed of being his wife, standing proudly by his side at the altar. But now, I understood. A marriage certificate couldn’t keep someone who had already moved on. A wedding wouldn’t magically make two people who didn’t love each other happy.

Becky joined in, feigning concern. “Penny, listen to him. There’s nothing between me and Derick. Today is about your happiness. Don’t act rashly!”

Her "understanding" performance won the admiration of Derick’s family, and several of them started comparing us, favoring her. My initial plan to leave quietly changed. Since they wanted to step on me to elevate her, I saw no reason to hold back. With a quick swipe on my phone, I projected Becky’s provocative photos on the big outdoor screen.