On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life.

Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish.

I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?"

Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him.

Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?"

I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

With an hour left before the wedding ceremony, I sat at the makeup table, staring at my phone. On the screen was a photo Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend had sent me.

In the picture, she wore the wedding dress I had chosen, smiling sweetly while holding Ethan's arm. Ethan was gazing down at her, and his eyes were filled with tenderness.

Her message read, "He says I look better in this than you did."

She added, "If you want your wedding ceremony to proceed smoothly, I suggest you start begging me."

I closed my phone and asked the makeup artist, "Is it really true that the wedding dress we originally decided on can't be worn because the measurements were altered incorrectly?"

The bridal shop I had chosen was also handling my makeup and photography. I had spent a fortune and had numerous consultations with their team to ensure everything would be perfect on my wedding day.

Now, the makeup artist could not even look me in the eye. That told me everything I needed to know.

I recalled how Ethan had either been answering calls or working on his laptop during our wedding dress fittings, yet he was all smiles with his ex-girlfriend.

Gripping my phone tightly, I took a deep breath. "Please ask Ethan to come here."

I needed an explanation. Hence, the makeup artist's assistant left to fetch him.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I noticed how the bodice was too tight across my chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Perhaps these ill-fitting clothes should never have been worn in the first place.

The wedding coordinator arrived before Ethan did. His face showed the same sense of guilt, and there was even a touch of regret.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Landry, but you won't need to attend now."

"Won't need to attend?" I almost laughed from anger. "Are you telling me that the bride doesn't have to make an appearance at her own wedding now? Is that what you're saying?"

As the coordinator opened his mouth to explain, Ethan walked in.

"That was my decision," he said.

Ethan wore the white suit I had chosen for him, but the bow tie at his collar was not the one I had picked.

Noticing my gaze fixed on his tie, he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "Anna is having surgery in a few days. The hospital has issued a notice that she is terminally ill. She said her only wish is to wear a wedding dress just once."

I laughed bitterly. "At our wedding?"

I knew about Anna Bedford.

It was during our third year together that I learned Ethan had an ex-girlfriend who had lost all her hair due to chemotherapy.

They were childhood sweethearts from families who were close friends. Even after breaking up, they could not completely cut ties with one another.

Since she was receiving treatment far from home, Anna's parents had asked Ethan, who lived in the same city, to look after her.

Initially, I had respect and sympathy for her, and felt sad that a young woman in her prime had to suffer such illness.

Even so, my impression of her plummeted when she started having Ethan deliver food to her in the middle of the night after our dates.

I constantly made allowances because she was ill.

Ethan seemed to have his priorities straight, and he had always put my wishes first.

Whenever Anna called him for something, he would report it to me and only go to help on rare and truly urgent occasions. He would even bring me along.

Well, that was until today.

When had Ethan gone with her to try on wedding dresses anyway? And when had he decided to give her the wedding dress I had chosen, allowing her to take my place in our wedding ceremony?

Perhaps the air conditioning temperature in the waiting room was set too low, as I felt increasingly chilled to the bone the more I thought about it.

When Ethan reached for my hand, I yanked it away.

I looked up at him steadily. "Get the wedding dress back. I don't want her wearing it."

Ethan frowned. "Don't be difficult, Lou. It's just a ceremony. We can have ours anytime."

The downturned corners of his mouth and the irritation in his eyes cut me deeply.

I said to him, "The dress is one thing, but if she wants to hold a wedding ceremony, does the groom have to be you?"

Was Anna merely making outrageous demands using her serious illness as leverage, or had he been emotionally detached all along and was just looking for an excuse?

Perhaps stung by my bluntness, his expression darkened.

Ethan pulled away from me and walked toward the door, tossing his final words over his shoulder.

"Dating you has become completely exhausting. You never consider my dignity and just always insist on making everyone look bad."

Was I the one not considering his dignity?

Was I truly the one being unreasonable here?

The sound of the door locking snapped me back to reality.

I gathered my skirt and pounded on the door. "I won't agree to this! The wedding I've carefully prepared for and anticipated for so long is not just some ceremony..."

Ethan's impatient voice rang out through the door, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with letting her have this moment?"

She was dying, and I had already made concessions for so many years because of her illness. Despite this, I was expected to hand over my own wedding and husband.

Even so, was I responsible for her illness?

I gripped the doorknob, calming myself. "Think carefully, Ethan Westbrook. You might regret this."

The voice outside paused, then the determined footsteps gradually faded away.

I slid down to the floor, still clutching my extravagant gown while feeling utterly empty inside.

She had actually ruined my wedding.

Anna had succeeded.

My phone rang urgently on the makeup table. It was my parents calling.

The call disconnected before I could answer.

The waiting room was just behind the reception hall, separated by a single door. I could clearly hear the commotion erupting inside — gasps of surprise and murmurs of confusion.

Then, guided by the emcee, applause filled the air.

Anna's social media account sent me another video.

The camera focused on the large projection screen where all the engagement photos Ethan and I had painstakingly created had been digitally altered, with Anna's face replacing mine in every single one.

All those hours spent sweating under the hot sun in full makeup, the day-long photoshoot that left my back aching and feet blistered, the countless poses we'd adjusted for perfect framing — all of it had become Anna's triumph.

This infuriated me even more than Ethan's words.

Though my hands trembled with anger, I still tapped to open the next video. In it, she glided down the aisle toward Ethan, bathed in the spotlight.

In the darkened audience behind her, I could see my parents. Their faces were drawn with distress as they searched frantically for me, but two security staff prevented them from leaving their seats.

Seeing this, I finally broke down, my tears falling onto my parents' faces on the phone screen.

I had chosen the wrong man.

Why did I have to drag my parents into this humiliation?

I simply could not bear to watch any more videos.

As the celebration continued on the other side of the wall, my mind gradually cleared.

After a long, hard look in the mirror, I peeled off the ill-fitting wedding gown, removed my makeup, and changed back into my street clothes.

I felt nothing but relief.

Well, at least I could thank God that I saw his true colors before we signed the marriage certificate.

The lengthy ceremony finally ended.

The door to the waiting room opened, and Ethan stood in the doorway.

He pressed his fingers against his temples, looking strained. "I'll make this up to you. I'll also go explain things to your parents..."

I cut him off. "Don't bother. They're my parents, not yours."

"They have nothing to do with you anymore, so don't bother," I continued.

He looked stunned.

Ethan's face showed exhaustion as he said, "Don't say things you don't mean. You know Anna's illness has been hard on her. What's the harm in making a small concession?"

Even now, he still believed he had done nothing wrong. He was still defending Anna.

For a moment, I did not know what else to say to him.

"Think of it as just anger if you want," I said, "Today I'll pack my things and move out. I'll have someone sell the apartment. If you don't want to sell it, just transfer my family's portion of the money to my account."

As I finished speaking, I spotted my parents standing not far away.

"That's all," I said before I hurried after them.

At this moment, several relatives had gathered around my parents.

As I approached, I overheard someone say, "I can't believe she got dumped like that."

My aunt, Isabelle Landry, was still blabbering on. "This is what happens when a girl is too assertive. Getting replaced on her own wedding day… how embarrassing."

I pulled my parents aside, pained by the awkwardness on their faces. Despite her being my elder, I shot back at Aunt Isabelle.

"Are you my aunt or Ethan's?

"Him switching brides last minute shows his irresponsibility and dishonesty. Him not consulting me shows his arrogance and disrespect. What does that have to do with me being assertive?

"If I'd known even one day earlier, he wouldn't have been the groom today either!"

Feeling humiliated by my words, Aunt Isabelle merely muttered something under her breath as she walked away.

Mom squeezed my hand, and I clearly saw the worry on her face.

I reassured her, "It's okay. If it's not meant to be, then it's not. I don't care anyway."

After seeing them off, I went alone to what was supposed to be our marital home to pack my things.

Though my words were clear and my mind rational, my emotions were beyond control.

Why did the tears insist on falling of their own accord?

This apartment had been decorated by Ethan and I together, so his presence lingered everywhere.

There was the ceramic pot he bought after learning about my menstrual cramps, promising to make me nourishing soup every week.

There was the walk-in closet he designed according to a trending short video.

I had teased him about the colorful lights being too flashy after installation, but he had just wrapped his arm around my waist, asking for a reward.

We met in college, then spent a year in different cities for work.

He had put in considerable effort to pursue me back then.

When he confessed his feelings, he said he was impressed by my confidence during a debate competition and how I held my ground.

Back then, I was radiant in his eyes, but now he complained I was too assertive.

The light he once saw in me had become an irritation to him.

I packed my things bit by bit, gradually extracting myself from our memories.

When I finished, I realized that our seven years together amounted to just half a cardboard box.

As I was wondering how to drag this box out and dispose of it, the door opened.

My best friend Charlotte Sanders burst in with her usual hurricane-like surge of energy.

The strength I had been faking crumbled completely at the sight of her, and my nose stung with emotion.

Charlotte gave me a fierce hug, squeezing me tight. "If I'd known, I would have been your bridesmaid. At least you wouldn't have been so alone."

She had disliked Ethan for a long time. She hated his indecisiveness and unwillingness to let go of his ex-girlfriend. She disliked him so much that she had not wanted to attend my wedding.

She had even bluntly warned me that I would regret marrying him.

To put it even more bluntly, the words she had said back then were, "Anna being alive is one thing, but if Anna dies, how can you compete with a ghost?"

We had fallen out over this. Now it seemed that she had hit the nail on the head.

I was so grateful to have such a friend back in my life.

With Charlotte around, life became more bearable.

She had specifically requested a business trip abroad to avoid my wedding. But as soon as her plane landed and she heard what happened, she rushed to find me, worried I might be crying alone.

She even took annual leave to keep me company, which moved me deeply.

The day she was busy trying to set me up with someone new, Ethan showed up at the door.

I sneered to myself. When trash shows up at your doorstep, it’s time to take out the garbage!