"I am willing to accept the institute’s invitation and take part in the confidential national aerospace research. I will settle things with my fiancé thoroughly and leave within a week."

“Serena, you’re finally accepting our invitation! But does your fiancé agree? I heard from your mother that you’re getting married. After this trip, I don’t know when you’ll be able to contact the outside world,” Mr. Ashcroft’s voice brimmed with excitement.

“Don’t worry, teacher. I’m joining voluntarily. It’s an honor to serve the country,” I replied calmly but firmly.

His voice trembled with pride: “You’re my best student. I’m so glad you’re joining. You still have a week — be sure to say goodbye to Dorian Vance properly.”

After hanging up, I looked up at our wedding room. How ironic that the festive dress now seemed so out of place.

A few days ago, my stepsister Liora Vance, upon hearing I was marrying Dorian, rushed to confront me in my car.

Trying to avoid her, I was hit hard on the head and suffered several broken ribs, while she escaped with just a few scratches.

Dorian stormed into the hospital but forcibly took away the doctor treating me.

“Don’t come rushing here — go see Liora first! She’s afraid of blood, don’t let her see any!” he ordered.

Through the blood haze, I watched Dorian’s retreating back, feeling the once fierce love inside me fade completely.

This was the ninety-ninth time he’d abandoned me for his stepsister — now he didn’t even care about my safety.

I had given everything to this relationship.

A week was enough for me to sort out everything related to him and leave behind an unforgettable wedding.

...

Hearing noise downstairs, I went to check but froze on the stairs.

Dorian had actually brought my stepsister back to our new home!

He spotted me and feigned surprise: “Why are you home? Shouldn’t you still be in the hospital?”

I took a steady breath and deliberately said, “I wanted to try on the wedding dress, so I asked the doctor and was discharged early.”

Dorian lowered his eyes and said, “Serena, actually…”

Liora interrupted eagerly: “Sister, don’t worry! Dorian took me to try on wedding dresses today!”

“It was for you. Don’t misunderstand!”

Of course, I understood perfectly.

That morning, right after I woke from a coma, Dorian was quick to excuse himself and Liora.

“I’m sorry, Serena. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t expect you’d be injured so badly! I was too anxious. Liora is so fragile — I can’t let her have any accidents…”

“Liora was upset and impulsively stopped your car. You won’t blame her, right?”

I’d broken six ribs, yet he never asked if I was in pain; all he cared about was whether I blamed Liora.

“How long have I been unconscious?” I asked.

“Three days,” Dorian answered, trying to shift the topic: “Baby, our wedding is only a week away. I canceled your dress appointment today. You just need to rest now.”

He stood, kissed my forehead, and said, “Your health is most important to me. Leave everything else to me.”

I watched him leave and secretly followed despite the nurse’s protests.

I saw him take Liora to the bridal shop, reschedule my appointment, and patiently help her try on dress after dress.

When he loved me most, he never showed this much patience.

He never accompanied me shopping, not even to try on clothes.

“Serena, be sensible. I have a lot of work, and I’m doing this for a better life for you.”

Yet he was now patiently helping Liora try on wedding dresses and even taking pictures to capture how she looked.

Their faces were so sweet and loving — like a newlywed couple.

The stabbing pain from my broken ribs was nothing compared to the ache in my heart witnessing this.

Seeing me silent, Liora said, “Sister, don’t worry. Dorian said Liora’s figure is similar to yours, and she’s your sister, so she’s only trying to help.”

I sneered, “So you expect me to thank her?”

Liora instantly looked hurt. “Dorian, your sister seems upset. Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not!” Dorian hugged her and whispered comforting words. Then he turned to me with irritation: “How can you speak to Liora like that?”

I said coldly, “Wasn’t the appointment canceled?”

He seemed to remember the lie, guilt flickering on his face before he masked it quickly.

“If Liora hadn’t done this today, what would you wear to the wedding? If you’d told me you were well earlier, would I have bothered her? Trying on wedding dresses is exhausting!”

My heart shattered. Didn’t he realize it was only because of Liora that I was even able to try on dresses?

“Did you ask me?” I asked coldly. “After I woke, did you ask if I was okay or if it hurt?”

“I…”

Suddenly, Liora knelt, sobbing: “It’s all my fault! I caused your accident and tried on the dress for you. Sister, please don’t be angry with me and Dorian!”

“Liora, get up!” Dorian hurried to pull her up. “Serena Caldwyn, look what you’ve done to Liora! Apologize to her immediately!”

This wasn’t the first time he blamed me for Liora’s mistakes.

Before, I endured it all for love.

But now, with a week left and my departure imminent, I would endure no more.

I stared at Liora coldly: “This is my home. Please leave.”

Liora sobbed, “But I promised Dorian I’d help with the wedding preparations, so I’m staying here for now…”

“Besides, sister, I didn’t have time to bring luggage — can I use your things?”

Their shamelessness stunned me, leaving me speechless.

Dorian said, “Liora, you don’t have to explain. Just stay in her room and use her things. I’ll take you there.”

He helped Liora up and headed toward the master bedroom.

“Stop!”

I reached out, but Dorian shoved me aside.

My body shook violently; the pain in my ribs flared sharply, and dizziness took over—

“Serena!”

Dorian watched me fall down the stairs and ran after me. “Serena, I didn’t mean it! You…”

“Sorry, sister, it’s my fault!” Liora staggered down and quickly distracted Dorian again. “I—I should go!”

“Liora!”

As expected, Dorian abandoned me once more to stop her.

I lay on the ground, pain making my forehead slick with cold sweat, unable to speak.

Dorian held Liora close, ignoring me, and said, “Serena, stop causing trouble. Go back to the hospital to recover. Don’t delay the wedding because of your health.”

He still never asked if I was hurting.

Watching their backs disappear, I bitterly laughed and, after gathering strength, made a call.

The phone was answered quickly.

“Are you on vacation lately?” I asked.

The voice on the other end was dry: “Otherwise, how could you get through on your phone?”

“Perfect,” I said. “Would you consider marrying me?”

The person on the other end of the line was silent for a moment before finally forcing out a word through clenched teeth: “What do you mean?”

“We were engaged already, weren’t we, Alaric Thorne?”

“Of course I remember. I still remember it was Miss Caldwyn who took the initiative to call off the engagement. And now you want to come back?” His voice grew colder with each word. “Do you think I would still want you?”

My engagement with Alaric was arranged by my mother before she passed. He was her proudest protégé. Our fields complemented each other perfectly — we should have been the ideal partners.

But at that time, my heart belonged only to Dorian. I gave up pursuing further studies for him, abandoned my career at the research institute, and refused to marry Alaric.

I laughed bitterly. “Then forget it, I…”

“Don’t forget it!” Alaric’s tone brooked no argument. “Tomorrow, we’re going to get the marriage certificate.”

After ending the call, another phone rang—my assistant.

“Your resignation has been expedited,” came the hesitant voice. “Vice President Caldwyn, are you really leaving? Does President Vance know?”

“He will know. After I leave.”

I took out the resignation letter I had prepared and handed it to Dorian to sign.

Outside the master bedroom door, I clearly overheard his conversation with Liora.

“Dorian, there are still wedding photos of you and your sister hanging here. It feels weird living alone.”

“I’ll have someone take those down soon. Then you can live here without worry.”

His tone was casual, but every word was like a knife twisting in my heart.

There are so many rooms in this villa, yet he chose to let Liora live in our bedroom. He didn’t even care if we took down our wedding photos.

Liora protested, “No, my sister will be angry if she finds out. Why don’t you live with me instead?”

Dorian hesitated. “Liora, Serena, and I are getting married soon. We can’t do that anymore...”

“Dorian!” Liora pouted and leaned into him. “We’re not married yet!”

She said with a sly smile, “Besides, isn’t it more exciting to be under your wedding photos?”

“Don’t you want to?”

Dorian’s eyes darkened as he stared at her. Then suddenly, he kissed her.

My fiancé, in our wedding room, was holding and kissing my stepsister.

The unbearable scene nearly broke me. I took a deep breath, wiped tears from my eyes, stepped back quietly, and deliberately made some noise.

Dorian pushed Liora away in panic, guilt flashing in his eyes.

“Serena, why are you still here? Go back to the hospital. Should I take you?”

He reached out to hold my hand, but I dodged him.

Ignoring the lipstick stains on his lips and Liora’s provocative gaze, I said, “There’s a document that needs your signature. I’ll wait in the study.”

Dorian frowned. “Don’t worry about work now. Your health is what matters. Be obedient. I’ll go to the hospital with you, okay?”

I smiled at him. “Then sign this first, and I’ll leave.”

Leave you — forever.

Dorian didn’t catch my meaning; he was just glad I smiled.

“Baby finally smiled! Good, you have to take care of yourself, or I’ll be sad.”

In the study, I handed him the resignation letter along with other documents. Dorian flipped through them casually.

“Which project is this?”

I pointed to one at random.

Suddenly, Liora’s voice came from downstairs, “Dorian, I want ice cream!”

“No! Your period’s coming. Do you want to suffer pain rolling around again?”

Their casual, loving banter felt like a knife twisting.

Dorian used to look at me that way.

My cramps were severe; he tracked my cycle every month, managing me carefully.

Now, he tracked Liora’s period with the same care.

He took her to checkups, got her medicine, recorded her condition and dietary restrictions meticulously. He strictly monitored her diet and forbade stocking cold drinks at home.

At first, I was jealous and bought a lot of ice cream, stuffing it into the fridge to spite him.

Dorian never noticed.

Or maybe he did, but he simply didn’t care anymore.

“Serena,” Dorian’s voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I blinked, hiding my tears.

“Didn’t I already sign this?”

Panic flickered in me. This was the project I managed before the accident. I’d been in a coma for days; I had no clue about its progress.

As I scrambled for an excuse, Liora’s voice interrupted again.

“I found it! My favorite vanilla ice cream! I want it!”

“No!” Dorian jumped up, rushing out. “Liora, be obedient!”

I grabbed his arm. “Sign the document first!”

“You…”

“I opened the lid! It smells so good!”

Dorian’s face tightened with anxiety. He cared so much about her.

I shoved the document forward. He sighed impatiently and signed without even reading.

Then he hurried downstairs to Liora.

“Dorian,” I whispered after him, “We will never see each other again after a week.”

I took the signed resignation letter and walked into the storage room.

There was a large box tucked into the corner — something Dorian had never noticed before.

It was filled with things he had given me over the years: expensive jewelry, designer bags, plush dolls, gloves, and other little trinkets. But the item I treasured the most was the stack of letters he wrote me.