Outside the window, the night was black as ink, rain lashing against the glass.

I tossed the last photo of us into the cardboard box and sat on the bay window ledge, knees drawn to my chest.

Out of habit, I opened my tablet. An unfinished wedding dress design filled the screen.

One I'd made for our wedding.

I'd been revising it for nearly two years and had never quite been satisfied.

Now that I'd never wear it, the imperfection felt strangely fitting.

I didn't hesitate. I dragged the file into the trash.

Deleting a love that was never equal to begin with.

I had moved out of the villa.

At the old Harding family estate, it was just Kevin and me.

When Dale came looking for me, I was lying in the rocking chair, enjoying the breeze.

He crouched beside me, his voice full of strained patience. “It's been two days. Your anger's had time to cool. Come back with me?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him, almost laughing.

“Dale, I raised you for ten years. When have I ever picked a fight with you?”

His expression stiffened. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

I thought it over and decided I should just say it plainly.

“Dale, I didn't move out because I'm angry with you. I moved out because we shouldn't be living together anymore.”

“In a few days, I'll go to the office and hand in my resignation. Once your wedding is over……”

“Enough!”

He cut me off before I could finish.

He stood, face dark, fury barely contained between his brows.

“Still telling me you're not making trouble?”

“It's a wedding. You really have to nickel-and-dime me over this?”

“I can't marry you anyway—so what does it matter who I marry? The Joyce family can help us hold our ground. Why can't you just see that?”

He said his piece, turned on his heel like he couldn't stand to be there another second, and left.

And I sat there, unable to come back from that last sentence.

He said he can't marry me……

But two years ago, on a rainy night, when he'd pinned me against the wall, drunk, the words out of his mouth had been clear enough.

“Marry me. Won't you marry me?”

I'd frozen.

Before I could answer, his warm lips trailed down from my forehead and caught my mouth, hard enough to bruise.

“You don't want to?”

I was gasping, and it took everything I had to push him back.

“Dale, you're drunk……”

He looked at me, eyes brimming, hurt spilling across his face like a child denied the only thing he'd ever wanted.

“I'm not drunk.”

“Don't you like me?”

My throat tightened. I didn't know what to say.

And he cried, tears spilling down like a boy who'd been refused the only thing he'd ever asked for.

“Just say yes. Please, just say yes.”

“You know I couldn't have made it this far alone. Not a single step, not without you.”

“If it's not you beside me for the rest of my life, what's the point of any of it? What's the point of Harding Group?”

His scalding tears slid from my neck into my collar, and whatever was left of my reason burned away.

I pressed my hands against his chest, a last feeble resistance. “Dale, think about this. You're not who you used to be. You could do so much better.”

“I don't want better. You're the best choice I could ever have.”

Every defense I had gave way under those words—vow after vow after vow, until there was nothing left standing.

And now he was telling me he can't marry me……

I started laughing and couldn't stop, until the laughter choked into tears streaming down my face.

His text came through. Even through the screen, the hostility was palpable.

【You want to resign? Fine. Maisie wants a position at the company anyway. Don't bother waiting a few days. Come in tomorrow and get it done. Free up the spot.】

I couldn't go.

What he didn't know was that I'd been on the operating table that morning. The abortion was done. The doctor said five days in bed, minimum.

As if deliberately trying to provoke me, Dale added Maisie to the company group chat the very next day.

【Our new design director. Everyone, say hello.】

Maisie introduced herself with easy confidence. After a long pause, the HR manager ventured a careful question：【What about Director Pruitt?】

Dale said nothing. The chat went dead silent.

It was Maisie who stepped in to smooth things over. 【Director Pruitt is heading to Jeju Island to set up our wedding venue, so I'll be covering her duties for now. Looking forward to working with all of you!】

Her bright, bubbly tone got the chat buzzing again.

But I stared at that line of text and could only let out a tired breath.

Maisie had boxed me in.

If I resigned now, it would look like I was slapping her in the face. And it would make it obvious that Dale and I had fallen out.

I stared at the screen for a long time, then muted the chat.

Fine. I'd do what Maisie said. I'd finish putting together their wedding, and then I'd leave.

Five days later, after letting Kevin know, I flew to Jeju Island.

The island was beautiful. It did lift my mood, at least a little.

I put together a team on the ground. Every detail of the venue layout and staging went through Maisie for confirmation.

She was easy to work with, responsive, quick to communicate.

Everything went so smoothly it didn't feel real.

Until one night, Maisie sent me a bridal gown sketch, brimming with excitement.

【Edith, Dale designed this wedding dress for me himself — isn't it beautiful?】

I tapped the image open. Staring back at me was the latest version of my own bridal gown design.

But I had deleted that file……Then it hit me. I had once sent Dale the version I was most proud of, the one I thought I'd finally gotten right.

I had never been this angry. The rage sat in my chest like something physical, pressing outward.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Dale's number.

The line rang and rang, and finally picked up just before it would have cut to voicemail.

Before I could say a word, his voice came through, lazy and unbothered.

“What?”

I paused, fighting to keep the tremor out of my voice.

“Dale. Why did you give that wedding dress design to Maisie?”

A beat of silence. Then, carelessly：“What does it matter? It's not like you'll ever use it.”

I clenched my teeth. For the first time in front of Dale, I let the composure crack.

“That's still mine. You don't get to just hand my things to someone else.”

“Dale, that design is mine. Did it ever cross your mind what Maisie would think if she found out what that gown actually meant?”

After another stretch of silence, his voice dropped, cold and hard.

“Then don't let her find out.”

“Unless you're trying to ruin this wedding.”

The line went dead.

My mouth hung open. For the first time, the boy I had spent ten years raising had become someone I didn't recognize at all.

He could take what was born from our past and give it away, then turn around and threaten me as if it were the most natural thing in the world……

The day before the wedding, Dale and Maisie flew in.

It was the first time I had ever seen a design of mine made into a real gown.

It was beautiful. Even more beautiful than I had imagined it would be.

Maisie took my hand, asked me to come with her for the fitting.

I had no reason to refuse.

But the moment we stepped inside the dressing room, her face changed.

She flung my hand away, snatched up a pair of scissors, and slashed the gown to shreds.

I froze for a second. Before I could stop her, she kicked a stool over, slapped herself hard across the face, and dropped to the floor.

Before I could even process what had happened, the dressing room door was kicked open.

Dale burst through the door.

Maisie was clutching her face, sobbing harder by the second.

“I'm so sorry, Edie. I really didn't know this gown was one you designed for yourself.”

“If I'd known, I never would have taken it.”

Dale's expression went dark.

“She hit you?”

Maisie turned her face away and wouldn't answer.

That was all it took. Dale crossed the room to me without a word and slapped me across the face.

Blood flooded my mouth.

My head stayed turned to the side, because I could not believe that Dale Harding had just raised his hand to me.

Maisie rushed forward and grabbed his arm.

“Dale, how could you hit her? It's not her fault at all. It's ours.”

“It's just, the wedding is tomorrow. Where would we even find another gown?”

Dale looked at me, a cold smile curling one corner of his mouth. “No need. Edith's specialty is invisible restoration.”

“She ruined the gown. She'll fix it with her own hands, and she won't stop until it looks exactly the way it did before.”

I turned back to face him, eyes burning, and wiped the blood from the corner of my lip with one finger. Then I laughed.

Right. Invisible restoration. My specialty.

Did he even remember how I'd learned it?

The Harding family had just fallen. I was a kid dragging him from meal to meal on an empty stomach, and creditors pounding on the door every few days.

I wasn't old enough for anyone to hire. One seamstress—one—was willing to feed me in exchange for my hands.

And that was all it was. One meal a day.

I couldn't keep Dale fed. I couldn't touch the interest the creditors kept piling on.

So I stitched day and night, desperate for the day we'd stop running.

Once my hands were good enough, I started taking overflow work home from my teacher to earn extra.

The better I got, the more she trusted me, and eventually she started giving me a cut of the pay.

I still remember the night I pushed too far—my vision blurred without warning, tears streaming and streaming, and I couldn't see anything at all.

Dale held me, sobbing, swearing through his tears.

“When I grow up, I'll never make you sew again. Never.”

And now he was making me sew a wedding gown for the woman who'd framed me, demanding I restore it in a single night.

For the first time, I was truly disappointed in Dale Harding.

“I raised you for ten years, Dale. This is how you repay me?”

“You didn't even ask me one question. You just believed every word out of her mouth and decided I was guilty.”

Not a flicker of guilt. He pulled Maisie into his arms instead.

“Don't talk to me about what you're owed, Edith. If we're keeping score, without my mother you'd be dead who knows where.”

“I'm not interested in your excuses. You said you'd repay my mother. Then tonight you fix this gown.”

He walked out with Maisie, shouldering past me hard enough to knock me off balance.

I swayed a step, and tears slid from the corners of my eyes.

“If I sew this gown, are we even?”

Dale's step faltered for just a moment. He said nothing, and kept walking with Maisie until the door closed behind them.

I sniffed, drew a breath, and picked up the shredded gown.

The fabric was specialty material. Any repair would require the exact same weave and thread color, or it would show.

But the evening dress Dale had once given me was made of the same material.

I locked myself in the hotel room and spent the night pulling that dress apart and stitching every piece into the gown.

I lost count of how many times the needle went through my fingertips instead of the fabric before the gown finally looked whole again.

When I brought it over before the ceremony, Maisie was already wearing a different gown, far more extravagant.

She widened her eyes at me in sweet, deliberate surprise. “Oh my, Edie—you really did stay up all night sewing?”

“I was afraid I wouldn't make it in time, so I had my best friend rush one over last night. Sorry about that.”

I smiled and stuffed the wedding gown back into its garment bag.

“It's fine. As long as it doesn't affect your wedding.”

The moment Dale took Maisie's arm and walked toward center stage, I threw the dress I'd spent all night repairing into the trash.

“Brenda, I kept my promise to you.”

“From now on, I'm living my own life.”

Back at the hotel, I sent my resignation to the HR manager's inbox.

I grabbed my luggage and walked out of Jeju Island without looking back.

And out of Dale Harding's life. Forever.