During my senior year, I participated in a confidential research project with my mother’s team. During that time, I was completely cut off from the outside world and could only receive one letter per month.

For two whole years, Dorian wrote me twenty-four heartfelt letters without missing a single month.

In each letter, I could feel how deeply he missed me.

When he graduated from college, he wrote:

“Serena, I wish I could take a graduation photo with you in our bachelor’s gowns and frame it for our wedding day. I want us to walk from the university steps straight into the wedding hall.”

When he started his company, he wrote:

“Serena, the project you helped initiate is progressing smoothly. Everything’s going well on paper… but I feel so tired. I miss you so much. I just want to hold you.”

At a classmate’s wedding, he wrote:

“Serena, once you return, we’ll register our marriage immediately! Our wedding has to be even more beautiful than theirs.”

But in the final letters, I could sense something shifting—his pain growing heavier.

“Serena, without you, even the air tastes bitter. I can’t take it anymore…”

Those words made my heart ache. I decided to leave the project team early. I wanted to return to him.

I thought I was doing something romantic — preparing a surprise.

For an entire month, I worked overtime and pulled all-nighters to hand over my responsibilities quickly. Once I was cleared to leave the research base, I didn’t even call him. I rushed straight to see him.

That was the surprise I had planned — but instead of joy, I was greeted with heartbreak.

I saw him with Liora, holding her closely, smiling as though the world belonged to just the two of them.

Someone nearby joked, “Brother Dorian and sister-in-law are so sweet! Hasn’t it been two years? You two are still so in love, always glued to each other!”

Dorian’s expression darkened. “Don’t talk nonsense. Liora isn’t your sister-in-law.”

The atmosphere turned awkward. Liora looked embarrassed, but Dorian didn’t seem to care at all.

A friend who knew the truth tried to smooth things over: “Isn’t your fiancée coming back next year? What will happen with you and Liora then?”

Dorian casually twirled a strand of Liora’s hair. “Of course it’ll end. We agreed from the start — Liora is just a stand-in for Serena. Serena will never find out. Once she’s back, things will go back to normal.”

But reality didn’t follow his script. I did find out. And nothing went back to normal.

Over the past three years, every time he left me for Liora, I placed one of his gifts in the box.

Before I knew it, the box was nearly full.

The engagement ring on my finger is the last item.

No more, no less — exactly the 99th.

Dorian has left me for Liora ninety-nine times.

I looked at the ring, feeling a quiet sense of closure. “I’ve returned everything you gave me. Let me give you one last gift.”

I placed the signed resignation letter inside the box and gently closed the lid.

That made a hundred gifts.

A fitting number to wish him and Liora a lifetime of happiness.

In one week, I will be gone.

I — my news, my presence, every trace of me — would vanish from Dorian’s world.

And I would return every memory to him, one by one.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated nonstop. I glanced at the screen.

All the messages were from Liora.

[Sister, do you like any of these wedding dresses?]

She had sent me photos of her trying on gowns — every style is different, but every photo features the same people: her and Dorian.

The images are stung. My vision blurred. I randomly chose one.

The chat box quickly updated: “The other party is typing...” Liora had been waiting for my reply and soon sent another barrage of texts.

[Oh no! I didn’t pick that one!]

[Dorian told me to decide. He said I look like you, so whatever I choose would suit you best.]

[I picked the second dress. Do you think I look better at it?]

[It’s already finalized based on my choice... what should I do now?]

I thought I had grown numb. But pain still surged from deep inside me, flooding every nerve in my body.

Because she looked like me, Dorian used her as my substitute during the two years I was away.

And when I finally came back, I found my place had already been taken by the substitute.

What a cruel, ironic joke.

Even now, I can’t understand — how could Dorian say he loved only me while smiling and kissing Liora?

Just then, a new message from Dorian arrived:

[Baby, don’t rush back to the hospital. I’ll head to the south side of the city to buy your favorite cake and bring it to you later.]

[Don’t worry about gaining weight. Something sweet will make you feel better!]

That was the final blow.

I collapsed, unable to hold back the heartache anymore.

He had completely forgotten.

I love cakes from the north side of the city. The ones from the south are Liora’s favorite.

Those cakes contain almond powder.

But I’m allergic to almonds.

He used to remember everything about me — every detail, every preference, every allergy.

So is he simply forgetting now, or does he just not care anymore?

I turned off my phone, shut my eyes, and let the tears fall silently, tracing a warm path down my cheeks.

That night, I returned to the hospital alone.

Dorian called repeatedly and flooded my inbox with messages after he got home, but I didn’t respond to any of them.

The following morning, I was discharged.

Today was the day Alaric and I would register our marriage.

The Office of Civil Administration hadn’t opened yet, but Alaric was already waiting outside.

When I saw him, I paused.

After several years apart, he hadn’t changed much from how I remembered him. His face — the one that captivated so many — was still striking, but now, he carried a calmer, steadier aura. Perhaps years immersed in research had shaped that quiet, rational demeanor.

As he approached me, I noticed his brows gradually knitting tighter.

“You don’t look well,” he said bluntly.

I blinked, momentarily stunned. No one — aside from the doctors and nurses — had shown any real concern for my condition since I woke from the accident.

I forced a smile. “Just a minor car accident. Nothing serious.”

But his expression turned grave. “A car accident? Where were you hurt? Does it still hurt?”

His voice, so unexpectedly gentle, made my chest tighten. I quickly looked down, trying to hide the sudden wetness in my eyes. But the ache in my voice betrayed me. “I broke a few ribs.”

Alaric reached out instinctively, but stopped just short of touching my shoulder. Instead, he gently grasped my wrist.

“Come on, I’m taking you back to the hospital.”

I held his arm and stopped him. “No, I already left the hospital. Let’s just get the marriage certificate first.”

“What marriage certificate?” he said, frowning. “It’s just a piece of paper. How can that matter more than your health?”

His words brushed softly over the raw wound in my heart.

I smiled, this time with a hint of certainty. “Alaric, I want to marry you. I want to be your lawful wife.”

His entire body tensed, and the stern expression on his face faltered. I caught a faint flush creeping up to his ears.

He turned away awkwardly but reached out to support me carefully. “Alright. Let’s get married.”

The registration process was surprisingly quick. I stared at the little red book in my hands, still not quite believing it was real.

“Now, can I take you back to the hospital?” Alaric asked.

I nodded, but added, “There’s something I need to tell you first.”

“What is it?”

“I accepted the institute’s offer. In six days, we’ll officially be colleagues.” I extended my hand to him with a smile. “Looking forward to working with you, partner.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re going back to the institute?”

“I am.”

He hesitated. “Have you really thought this through? Once you're in, there’ll be no contact with the outside world. What about... your boyfriend?”

I interrupted without hesitation. “What boyfriend? I only have a husband now — you.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve made up my mind.” I gave his hand a light shake, sealing the handshake.

“There’s one more thing,” I added. “There’s a wedding in six days. Would you be willing to be my groom?”

Surprise flashed in his eyes once more, and his ears turned a brighter shade of red.

“I do,” he said quietly.

When we returned to the hospital, I was surprised to find Dorian and Liora in my ward.

“Where were you? Why wasn’t your phone reachable?” Dorian rushed over, his expression filled with worry — as if he truly cared.

“I went out to finalize some wedding matters. My phone was silent and buried in my bag. I didn’t notice it.”

He helped me back into bed. “You shouldn’t be moving around. Didn’t I say I’d handle everything? You just need to rest.”

I nodded, smiling slightly. “It’s all taken care of now. You can focus on recovery.”

Because in six days, someone else will stand at the altar. And I’ll leave you for good.

Dorian seemed satisfied. He reached out to tuck my hair behind my ear, but I subtly turned my head away.

Retracting his hand, he picked up a jewelry box from the table.

“This is the wedding jewelry. I brought it over for you to take a look.”

He opened the box — inside were a necklace and earrings that sparkled brilliantly under the light.

But my smile faded. It wasn’t what I had expected.

“Why isn’t it the pink diamond set?”

That set was the one he’d won at auction just for me. At the time, he said he wanted me to wear it on our wedding day.

Before he could respond, Liora, who had been silent until now, spoke up.

“Are you talking about this set?” She tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing the pink diamond earrings. “Dorian gave it to me to wear as a bridesmaid.”

My expression darkened.

“Liora,” Dorian said sharply. “Leave us.”

“Dorian—”

“Get out!”

Pouting, Liora stomped out of the room reluctantly.

Dorian turned to me and said apologetically, “That pink diamond set doesn’t match your gown. I chose this new one for you.”

I stared at him, my voice was calm but firm. “Dorian, we agreed you’d give me that set for the wedding.”

“It doesn’t suit your current dress. You know, I just want the most perfect wedding for you.”

My eyes welled with tears. He panicked the moment they started to fall.

“Baby, don’t cry. If you really like pink diamonds, I’ll get you a bigger and even shinier one next time, alright?”

I looked at him, choking back a sob. “But what if all I want is this set?”

He wiped my tears gently, but the words that followed cut deeper than anything else.

“Serena, don’t be unreasonable. I already went to so much trouble to get you something even better. Isn’t that enough?”

The tears came harder now, and I couldn’t stop them.

Once, I never had to fight for anything with Dorian. He would give me whatever I wanted without hesitation.

Now, even what he promised me is no longer mine.

I inhaled slowly, wiped my face, and tucked the jewelry into my bag. “Fine. This one, then.”

He pulled me into a hug and stroked my hair. “That’s my good girl.”

But then, something in my bag caught his eye — a flash of red.

“What’s this?” he asked.

He reached into the bag and pulled it out.

His eyes widened in disbelief as he read the cover.

“A marriage certificate?”

"Where did you get this?"

My heart pounded, but I kept my voice steady. “I ordered it specially. It’s just a prop for the wedding ceremony.”

Because of Liora’s interference, Dorian and I hadn’t registered our marriage yet.

He chuckled awkwardly, clearly relieved. “You’re always so thoughtful. After the wedding, we’ll go get the real certificate. No matter what happens, I won’t break my promise this time.”

I smiled and slipped the marriage certificate back into my bag, silently dismissing his words.

It didn’t matter anymore. In six days, he wouldn’t get the chance to break a promise to me ever again.

Two days before the wedding, I was discharged from the hospital and returned home.

That evening, Dorian said, “Your favorite band is performing tomorrow. I managed to get two tickets. Let’s make it our last date before the big day. What do you think?”

Last date?