“This wedding dress is your lesson,” Gerry said coldly. “Once you calm down and truly accept Niana, then we can talk about holding the ceremony.”

I ended the video and collapsed onto the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The cold wind brushed past, drying the tears that clung stubbornly to the corners of my eyes.

For a moment, it felt like I was back in that freezing tunnel beneath the bridge—alone, abandoned, numb.

Gerry was right.

I was just an orphan picked up by Madam Stall.

To be more precise… she pulled me from a river.

I was ten. After enduring unspeakable abuse at the hands of the orphanage director, I’d run away, only to wander the streets—hungry, lost, shivering. People shoved me aside, hurled insults, looked at me like I was nothing. One night, desperate and hollow, I nearly ended it all.

But then… Madam Stall appeared. She brought me home, fed me, gave me a bed. She made sure I’d never have to beg for food again.

From then on, I lived like a ghost in the Stall household. I was tolerated, never embraced. Anyone could walk all over me—but not Gerry.

He was the only one who ever smiled at me.

When I was punished and denied dinner, he’d sneak out and buy me spicy crayfish. When I couldn’t afford school supplies, he’d split his allowance and hand me a full set of beautiful stationery—one he had chosen himself.

For my fifteenth birthday, he skipped his tutoring session and took me to a handmade clay studio. He used his entire year’s allowance to mold a figurine just for me.

Something that would never fade. Never crack. Never break.

“Our Luna,” he said that day, smiling at me with those eyes I could never forget, “when you grow up, if you could wear a wedding dress as beautiful as this one and marry me… that would be wonderful.”

Even now, I still remember the wild rhythm of my heart.

“I... I want that too,” I whispered.

My voice was soft—too soft. I don’t think he ever heard it.

A few months later, Madam Stall flew into an unexpected rage. Gerry was abruptly pulled from school and confined to the Stall Family’s ancestral hall for a month of reflection.

Worried, I went to visit him—only to learn he had brought Niana home behind everyone’s back.

“She’s the only bright spot in my boring life,” he told me, almost dreamily. “I miss her so much. It’s my fault. I was too impatient. Has Mother said when I’ll be let out?”

The pang in my chest was sharp—blinding. My mind reeled. The joy I’d once felt was gone in an instant.

I knelt beside him on the prayer mat, head bowed, suddenly too afraid to tell him the truth—that Madam Stall and the elders had already decided to groom me to be his future wife.

“He’s only seventeen, yet he was willing to risk breaking ties with his family for a girl his age,” Madam Stall had said. “He needs to learn a lesson.”

In Gerry’s eyes, Madam Stall was tyrannical and the elders were outdated and controlling. He resented their grip on his life, longed for independence.

And I? I was the tool they’d chosen. They didn’t need both of us under control—just one.

If they could secure me as the future Mrs. Stall, they believed Gerry wouldn’t dare cut ties completely once he inherited the family business.

Soon after, Niana was quietly sent away to study in another city. As expected, Gerry was released from the ancestral hall not long after.

But half a year later, he found out about the family’s plans—about me.

That day, he came to me in a fury.

And he slapped me.

Hard.

From that moment on, he hated me.

I couldn’t sleep that night. I tossed and turned, heart hollow, ears ringing from the sting of that slap.

The next morning, a call woke me.

Just one sentence.

“Come to the old mansion.”

I knew then—Madam Stall must have discovered Niana’s pregnancy.

I didn’t hesitate. I packed my things and took a taxi straight to the Stall Family’s ancestral home.

When I arrived, Madam Stall had already vented her fury.

The moment she saw me, her teacup came flying across the room.

It shattered at my feet.

“You’re useless girl!” she shouted. “After all these years and you still can’t hold onto a man’s heart? What good are you to the Stall Family?”

The rim of the porcelain cup grazed my forehead, slicing the skin and drawing a thin trail of blood.

I bowed my head instinctively, murmuring an apology.

Across from me, Gerry sat on the plush, expensive sofa with Niana nestled in his arms—completely unmoved.

He was no longer the powerless boy of years past. Now, he was Mr. Stall—the one the entire Stall Family obeyed. Even Madam Stall and the elders had learned to tread carefully around him.

Eventually, Madam Stall tired of shouting. She sat down with a huff and picked up her tea again, taking a sip before casting him a glance.

“What do you plan to do now?”

“Let her give birth to the child,” Gerry said, his voice calm and firm—leaving no room for argument.

Madam Stall’s eyes narrowed. She turned her gaze to Niana.

“And what about you?”

Niana bit her lower lip, tears streaking her face. “Isn’t it true love? Back then... I already lost one child.”

A flicker of guilt flashed across Gerry’s face. He reached back, shielding Niana with his arm. When he looked at me again, his eyes were filled with hostility.

“If it hadn’t been for her,” he spat, “your grandson would already be calling you Grandma.”

I knelt there on the icy marble floor and in that moment, I felt cold down to my bones.

After we broke up, life in the Stall household became even more unbearable. I tried, again and again, to explain everything to Gerry—but he wouldn’t listen.

Then came the turning point.

On the night he turned twenty, Niana came back.

She called me, her voice trembling, saying Gerry had been in an accident. She gave me an address. Without thinking, I rushed there.

When I arrived, clothes were strewn outside the small forest near the address.

***

The next day, Gerry was punished once more—ordered to kneel in the ancestral hall. But this time, there was one major difference: Niana was pregnant.

Madam Stall demanded she terminate the pregnancy, but Gerry refused. The conflict exploded within the ancestral hall.

On the day of the scheduled surgery, I sneaked Gerry out of confinement—but it was too late.

After that, Niana left the country, devastated. And Gerry? He found me, smashed my phone and left me with a single sentence.

“You should be grateful you helped me escape. Otherwise, you’d be the one suffering today.”

Oddly enough, after that, he started speaking to me again.

I stared blankly at him now, realization dawning.

So all this time… he blamed me for that night. For being the reason Niana lost the baby.

But he never knew—I wasn’t alone that night.

Someone had followed me.

After that, Gerry spiraled. One woman after another. Parties, affairs, indulgence. Until one day, just before his wedding, Niana appeared again—this time at his bachelor party.

“This child… I’m keeping it. It has nothing to do with Niana. Mom, please, stop trying to tear us apart.”

For the first time in years, Gerry softened. Just that one word—“Mom”—was enough to melt even Madam Stall’s hardened heart.

She sighed and shook her head. “The seven before you, who tried to steal what little affection was left… none were as stubborn as you. But now that she’s pregnant again, you…”

She trailed off.

“Madam!”

The maid stepped forward with a steaming bowl of dark, bitter-smelling medicine.

Madam Stall didn’t even look at me as she spoke.

“Make a choice. If you still want to be Mrs. Stall, drink this. You’ll never have children. If not…”

But she didn’t get to finish.

Gerry spoke first.

“Luna,” he said coldly. “Drink it.”

I froze. My hands trembled. I looked up at him, disbelief clouding my eyes.

“Why?”

His gaze was like ice. “I’ve already told you—after Niana gives birth, she’ll recognize you as the child’s godmother. You won’t need to go through the pain of childbirth.”

He paused, then added with quiet calculation, “And this way, our children won’t fight for affection or inheritance in the future. You’ve always been the obedient one, haven’t you? The sensible one. So do what’s right. Drink it.”

The nanny pushed the bowl of herbal medicine toward me again, as if she were ready to pry my mouth open and force it down my throat.

Above me, Niana looked on with amusement, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Luna, just drink it already,” she said sweetly. “It’ll only make you unable to have children—nothing else. Do you really think Auntie and Gerry would ever hurt you? Why resist so much?”

Madam Stall snapped, clearly out of patience. “What are you waiting for? Drink it! I saved your life, didn’t I? You think I’d poison you?”

My nails dug into the flesh of my palm as I clenched my fists. I bit my lip, turning my face away with all the defiance I could muster.

“I won’t drink it,” I said quietly. “There’s another option, isn’t there? I choose the second one.”

A stunned silence fell over the room.

Even Madam Stall blinked, her tone now edged with suspicion. “Are you sure?”

Before I could answer, Gerry scoffed coldly. “She’s just being dramatic. You can’t take her seriously.”

Their gazes shifted to me—disdainful, dismissive. I scrambled to explain.

“I’m not lying… I really did choose the second option!”

But no one listened. No one cared.

Madam Stall rolled her eyes, waving her hand as if brushing off a nuisance. “She always listens to you. You deal with her. As long as it doesn’t interfere with my grandchild or family peace, I’m staying out of it.”

Gerry gave a slight nod. Without saying a word, he grabbed the bowl of herbal medicine and led me back to the bridal suite. His face was stern, still simmering with anger from what I’d said the day before.

“Drink the medicine,” he ordered. “Or leave. Your choice.”

He didn’t give me time to answer. He turned around, draped his arm around Niana and disappeared into the bedroom.

It had only been two days, but the bridal chamber no longer felt like the place I once knew.

The cool-toned décor had been replaced with warm, cozy furnishings. The walls were now adorned with recent photos of Gerry and Niana, smiling blissfully. Even the spare bedroom had been converted into a nursery.

Everything of mine—down to the slippers by the door—was gone.

This house, once mine, now had nothing to do with me.

I ignored the bowl of cold medicine on the table and curled up on the sofa for the night. Just as sleep began to take hold, muffled noises from the master bedroom jolted me awake.

Niana’s voice rang out, breathy and soft with pleasure. Through the thin walls, I heard the unmistakable sound of splashing water.

“Gerry… there… one more time… mm~”

My chest tightened. I shot up, stumbling into the bathroom, clutching the sink to steady myself.

Time passed in a blur until the noises finally ceased. When I emerged, the door to the master bedroom was open—and I was met with the sight of Niana sitting in the living room, her expression composed, her eyes glinting.

“Gerry’s exhausted,” she said lightly. “He’s asleep.”

Her tone was laced with smugness, every word a calculated stab. I didn’t respond.

When she saw I wasn’t taking the bait, she rose from the couch and walked over to the table, lifting the bowl of herbal medicine.

“To be honest, if I were you,” she said sweetly, “I would’ve drunk this back at the old house. I mean, someone like you… shouldn’t you be grateful just to enjoy the perks of being a rich wife for a little while longer?”

I let out a low, sarcastic laugh.

“That ‘rich wife’ position will be yours soon enough. No need to rush.”

She paused, her smile deepening, but her eyes gleamed with something darker.

“What are you saying, Luna? I’m just trying to help you accept reality—Ah!”

Her foot slipped.

In a heartbeat, she lost her balance and fell backward. I instinctively reached out to steady her, but we both tumbled to the ground.

Before I could even react, Gerry burst out of the bedroom—barefoot and frantic.

“Niana!”

He rushed past me, straight to her, scooping Niana into his arms like she was made of glass.

She had landed on top of me, but all he saw was her. His eyes were full of panic.

Of worry.

Of love.