Justin smiled as he playfully tickled her, his expression open and relaxed in a way I had never seen before.

Before this, I had always believed that Justin Harlow was simply a man indifferent by nature—someone who neither understood love nor knew how to cherish a woman.

But now I realized I was wrong.

It was not that he couldn’t understand. It was just that he never wanted to understand me.

That was why pretending to be ignorant was simply the easiest, cheapest way for him.

As the last box of my luggage was carried away, Justin’s voice rang out, impatient and commanding.

"What are you still standing there for? Have someone clean the room right away. Rhea and I will be staying here tonight."

"Oh and she doesn’t like the pink decorations on the wall. Take them all down."

"Throw away the red ones, too and replace them with light blue."

Everything he dismissed so casually had been the result of my painstaking choices—made over countless sleepless nights—just a month before our wedding.

Black, white and gray had always felt too cold to me, yet he disliked vibrant colors.

So I had compromised, balancing between warmth and restraint, personally visiting store after store, comparing countless options to find the perfect pieces.

And now, all of it was headed straight for the trash.

A bitterness so heavy filled my chest that even breathing felt like scraping against my ribs.

I collapsed onto the bed, utterly drained. Even during that month I spent caring for his grandmother, I hadn’t felt this bone-deep exhaustion.

In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes forever—not to see, not to hear, not to feel.

But reality never granted such luxuries.

At six in the afternoon, there was a sudden, urgent pounding on my door.

"I’ve sent you the list of Rhea’s dietary restrictions. Check your phone and make sure you don’t miss a single detail."

Upstairs, the other maids were busy setting up Rhea’s room.

Meanwhile, I stood alone in the kitchen, preparing dishes from eighteen different regions.

I had collected these recipes long ago.

Back then, my only thought was that Justin worked so tirelessly and his sole comfort should be coming home to a warm meal.

I wanted him to relax, to feel cared for through delicious food.

But before I could ever make that happen, everything had already changed.

Laughter floated in from the living room. The two of them sat shoulder to shoulder, a tablet in hand, browsing wedding supplies.

"This decoration is awful! Justin, when did your taste get so tacky?"

"I don’t want a dull, conventional wedding. I want something unique and modern. And the gown… the whiter, the better. Just like our relationship."

"Why did you have a plan ready so early? Were you planning to marry someone else before I came back?"

The dull, conventional wedding she scoffed at was actually the very plan I had spent half a year perfecting.

Justin’s smile faltered for just a moment and his eyes flicked instinctively toward the kitchen.

Then he touched his nose as he laughed lightly.

"How could that be? If you never came back, I’d spend the rest of my life waiting for my bride."

"Even if I reach seventy or eighty—until I’m buried—the only one by my side would still be you."

"Heh, you’re just trying to sweet-talk me."

He chuckled low in his throat.

"I can sweet-talk you in other ways, too. Want me to prove it right now?"

"Stop it, or I’ll get mad! Don’t kiss my neck—we’ve got a wedding photoshoot tomorrow."

"All right, all right. Then I’ll only kiss the places your wedding dress will cover. How about that?"

It felt as though invisible hands had gripped my heart, crushing it, then tearing it apart.

All I could hear after that were their footsteps, fading into the distance.

Eighteen dishes stood ready on the dining table, but the two of them remained in the bedroom.

The servants and I waited in silence all night.

By dawn, exhaustion overcame me and I dozed off—only to be jolted awake by the shrill ring of a phone.

"What kind of photographer is this? I look terrible! Justin, does my face really look that big?"

"Find someone else. Leave them a bad review!"

His tone was indulgent, almost amused.

"All right, as you wish."

Then, switching to another call, his voice instantly turned cool.

"Starlene, head to the beach. I’ll give you one hour."

"Bring your cameras and everything you need."

"Rhea loves your work, so don’t keep her waiting."

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, freezing me in place.

He knew better than anyone that I hadn’t touched a camera since the day I took my parents’ memorial portraits.

And yet, he still said this.

My fingers clenched tightly around the phone and my voice trembled as I forced the words out.

"I can’t help you with this. I don’t know how to take good photos. Just find someone else."

Justin’s patience immediately snapped.

"Mind your manners. Don’t forget the contract you agreed to. You don’t get to make demands of me."

"Half an hour. One minute late and I’ll see you at the police station."

The line went dead with a brutal click and my chest throbbed with pain.

When I collapsed onto the bed, my tears streamed down, soaking the pillow and sheets.

Perhaps… perhaps he had kept me around all this time for this very moment.

But there was no time to dwell. I grabbed my long-unused camera equipment with dust clinging stubbornly to its surface and ran to the beach.

The coastline stretched out before me, empty except for the small filming crew.

I had chosen this place simply because I loved it.

Justin had once bought this land at a staggering price.

I remember teasing him back then, "Buying land and leaving it undeveloped—won’t you end up losing everything, my dear Mr. Harlow?"

He had held me in his arms, his eyes fixed on the sunset. His voice had been so gentle that it almost felt like a dream.

"Having you is the greatest reward heaven could ever give me."

For that one sentence, I had chosen this place for our wedding photos.

And for our wedding itself.

I had imagined us walking hand in hand along the shore, receiving the blessings of our family and friends.

I had pictured our children laughing as we played together in the sand. 

And I had even taught myself a bit of architectural design, sketching a seaside villa that would be our secret hideaway, just for the two of us.

Now, every one of those dreams lay shattered, the fragments turning into sharp blades slicing into my heart.

Rhea had been waiting for a while, impatience already written across her face.

She slipped her arm through Justin’s and gave it a light shake, her tone sweet but tinged with complaint.

"UV rays cause aging, you know. I’ve been baking in the sun all this time—you owe me."

"Put the villa in my name and buy me that Hermès bag I’ve been wanting."

"Just in case you ever change your mind—consider it my insurance."

Her playful manner drew a laugh from him almost instantly.

"Change my mind? That won’t happen until I’m dead."

"You’re too late anyway—the bag and the property deed are already on your bedside table. You’ll see them when you get home."

"Next time, try asking for something I don’t already know about, or you'll ruin the surprise."

When her eyes flicked toward me, Rhea leaned even closer into him, tightening her grip on his arm.

"Starlene, you’re here. I heard you majored in photography—mind handling today’s shoot?"

"Oh and I don’t like red roses. Change them to white lilies. They suit my personality better."

My breath caught in my throat.

In my parents’ memorial photos, they had been surrounded by white lilies.

That image flashed through my mind again and again, the tension in my head winding tighter until it felt as if it might snap.

"Miss, weddings are meant to be joyful. White lilies just… carry a heavy meaning. How about we choose another white flower instead?"

Rhea's voice immediately turned sharp. 

"What’s that supposed to mean? I have to set aside my own preferences just to please you now? Why are you talking to me like this? Are you calling someone here… a depressing person?"

Justin’s face darkened instantly, his eyes cutting toward me like shards of ice.

"She likes it, so that’s what we’ll use. You’re just a hired hand here—remember your place."

"And if I hear that tone from you again, you know exactly what will happen."

The wound on my palm had barely healed and now it split open beneath my nails. Warm blood seeped into the sand, blooming red against the pale grains.

I swallowed the storm rising in my chest, forcing my voice to stay steady.

After a long, heavy silence, I simply nodded.

I should have walked away from this relationship long ago.

And yet, in that moment, I felt an odd, fleeting gratitude toward him—gratitude for his cruelty. Because it forced me to wake up faster than I ever could have on my own.

Once the camera equipment was in place, I shot in three different styles.

With every click of the shutter, Rhea’s smile thinned.

"Starlene, are you doing this on purpose? Trying to get back at me?"

"What’s the difference between these dull shots and any other wedding photos?"

"Don’t play innocent. I saw the wedding photos in your room—the ones you took with someone else. That’s the style I want."

She was talking about the sample shots I had taken with Justin back then. In the final edits, I had erased his face for artistic effect.

His gaze swept over me, calm and cold, his tone carrying an unshakable certainty.

"Is this too hard for you, Starlene? You wouldn’t forget something you shot yourself, would you?"

"I remember. So… please bear with me one more time?"

I knew I had no right to refuse. My voice could not hide the weariness seeping into my bones.

Rhea’s intentions were too obvious. 

And yet Justin didn’t even bother to intervene.

Thousands of shots later, she still wasn’t satisfied.

It wasn’t that I failed to capture the way Justin looked at her with open admiration.

It was that I kept "getting the lighting wrong," "missing the right pose," "choosing the wrong moment."

Only when the camera memory was completely full did she finally nod in approval.

"That’s it. Though, of course, the very first one was the best."

After that, they turned toward the car together. 

"Starlene, the sports car only seats two. I’m afraid you’ll have to find your own way back."

"The passenger seat belongs to her anyway. She knows her place."

I let my arms drop helplessly. After holding the camera for so long, my muscles ached too much to even lift it again.

By the time I returned to the villa that night, it was well past midnight and the mountain of photo edits was still waiting for me.

Rhea had suddenly decided to move the wedding up by an entire week.

It now landed squarely on the date that was once meant for my own wedding.

Over the next three days, I scraped together barely five hours of sleep in total.

On the morning of the wedding, my phone buzzed nonstop with messages from relatives back home.

They wanted to know why I had suddenly canceled my wedding and whether something had gone wrong between Justin and me.

The family group chat was packed with messages urging me not to be impulsive.

They reminded me, again and again, that the Harlow Family’s background was far beyond my reach.

Every word meant as comfort only pressed deeper into my wound and I couldn’t bring myself to reply.

The vast villa was silent, only the maid and I remained. Rhea had given everyone else the day off before the wedding "to avoid distractions."

For six hours straight, I ran from room to room, making sure every last decoration was in place.

I had thought that after these grueling days, I might be able to watch this wedding, the one that wasn’t mine, with a kind of detached calm.

But the moment I saw Rhea wearing the wedding dress I had spent half a year choosing, my vision blurred.

Her lips curved in a smile.

"Am I really that beautiful, Starlene? Why are you crying?"

"They decided at the last minute to switch to a conventional wedding style. The makeup artist didn’t know how to adjust for it, so she quit."

"By the way, you’re so good at makeup. Why don’t you do mine today?"

She was about the same size as me, so the gown fit her perfectly and no alterations were needed.

Dizziness hit me and the staircase seemed to tilt beneath my feet.

Suddenly, a figure appeared behind me and I stumbled into a broad chest.

Rhea tilted her head, pouting in mock grievance.

"If you don’t want to, just say so, Starlene. No need to make a show of refusing me, okay?"

Turning around, I met Justin’s eyes—cold, sharp and threatening.

"She wouldn’t dare, would you, Starlene?"

In that instant, the dam inside me finally burst.