Hazel sat quietly beside him, her laptop open as she transferred the surveillance footage onto a USB drive. She had a surprise in mind that would leave a mark before she walked away.

Halfway through the transfer, Ambrose suddenly looked up, his gaze scanning the house. "Why does it feel so empty in here all of a sudden? Didn’t you decorate?"

"You told me to keep things simple."

Hazel wasn’t concerned. She knew Ambrose's eyes had long stopped seeing anything that didn’t involve Scarlett.

However, Ambrose’s gaze lingered on the countdown calendar in the living room this time. He let out a soft laugh. "Time flies, huh? Only seven days left until our wedding."

Hazel stood up and walked over to the calendar. With a quick motion, she tore off two pages.

"Our wedding is in five days."

The two pages she tore off had wishes written: “Ride a Ferris wheel together” and “Watch the stars together.” These were things Ambrose had already done with Scarlett.

A strange pang tugged at Ambrose’s heart, like a fleeting shadow of something important he’d missed. He opened his mouth to say more, but Hazel’s phone buzzed, cutting through the moment.

Noticing her mother’s name on the screen, Hazel excused herself and stepped onto the balcony to answer.

When she returned, Ambrose was already lost in his world, his eyes glued to his phone as he typed away, undoubtedly chatting with Scarlett.

“Who called? I thought I heard something about a visa,” he asked casually, barely looking up.

“Nothing important—just work,” Hazel replied, her tone light and dismissive.

Ambrose exhaled in relief. “Good. Don’t go planning any honeymoon trips. I won’t have the time.”

“I know,” she said softly.

Since Scarlett’s return, Ambrose couldn’t bear to be away from her, not even for a moment. It was clear he had no time or space for anyone else.

They sat in strained silence, the tension in the room growing heavier with every passing second. Ambrose shifted uncomfortably, an inexplicable unease curling in the pit of his stomach.

Hazel had always carried herself with a quiet grace, a sensibility born not of choice but necessity. Unlike other girls, she never indulged in tantrums or petty whims.

But Ambrose knew the truth; her calm demeanor was a mask, a defense she had perfected over the years.

Beneath it all, Hazel was just a fragile, love-starved girl, yearning for affection she rarely received.

In the past, every time he stepped through the door, she would rush into his arms, her eyes alight with joy as she eagerly shared every detail of her day.

She would chatter endlessly, filling the silence with her stories, oblivious to whether he was listening or not.

Now, the quiet was deafening. It pressed down on him, feeling unnatural and wrong. Ambrose set his phone aside, his gaze shifting to Hazel.

“You’ve worked so hard preparing for the wedding. Once this is all over…”

But Hazel cut him off, her tone steady yet pointed. “Where’s your wedding ring?”

He froze, caught off guard by the sudden question. “I’m not sure… I must’ve lost it somewhere.”

The memory crept back into his mind unbidden. It had been the night of their engagement. Scarlett had seen the ring and been upset.

He had slipped it off to calm her down, setting it aside without a second thought.

Ambrose opened his mouth to explain, guilt flickering in his eyes, but Hazel interrupted him almost dismissively. “If it’s lost, it’s lost. Just buy a new one.”

She didn’t linger on the matter. In her heart, she knew the truth. Once she left, Ambrose would undoubtedly replace it with a stunning diamond ring for Scarlett.

This ring, their ring, had been destined for the trash heap from the moment Scarlett had stepped back into his life. Whether it was now or later didn’t make a difference.

Ambrose had grown used to Hazel’s endless understanding, her boundless patience that bordered on self-sacrifice.

Yet, for the first time, her indifference rattled him. It was as if he hadn’t just lost a ring but something intangible, something far more valuable.

The unease gnawed at him, relentless and unfamiliar. Determined to ease the weight pressing on his chest, Ambrose resolved to make things right with Hazel.

“Since the office is quiet today, how about I take you out to choose a new ring? Something grander to reward you for all the effort you’ve put in these past days.”

Hazel frowned slightly, her instinctive response on the tip of her tongue. She was about to decline when his phone buzzed, its screen lighting up with a message.

Ambrose glanced at it without a second thought, his expression shifting subtly. He shot to his feet, already heading for the door. But halfway there, as if struck by a fleeting memory, he turned back. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

“Sorry, love, I’ve been caught up with so much lately I haven’t had the chance to give you the time you deserve. I swear, I’ll make it up to you once this hectic stretch is behind us. I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”

In the ten years they had been together, Ambrose had never spoken with such tenderness to Hazel.

He understood that women often craved sweet words, but Hazel had always been the exception. She was far too sensible, too independent, to need his coaxing.

Naturally, his efforts had always been reserved for Scarlett, the woman who thrived on attention, who could cry at the slightest slight and demand his comfort.

Yet now, guilt gnawed at him. The growing unease over his neglect of Hazel had prompted this sudden attempt to treat her better, hoping to ease the weight pressing on his conscience.

But Hazel gave him nothing in return, no smile, no frown. Her face was a blank slate, concealing any trace of emotion.

Once Ambrose left, Hazel walked to the bathroom, her footsteps steady but deliberate. Slowly, methodically, she washed her face, rinsing away every trace of Ambrose’s fleeting touch as if cleansing herself of his presence.

Belated love. Hollow compensation after betrayal. Hazel didn’t want any of it.

The days crept by, and soon, it was the eve of the wedding. The calendar had thinned to just two fragile pages, one hanging by a thread. Today’s wish read, “Have a family reunion dinner together.”

For over twenty years, Hazel had carried this hope silently in her heart. Yet, deep down, she knew it was a futile dream. Her mother would never forgive her father, just as she could never forgive Ambrose.

Refusing to linger on these thoughts, Hazel brushed on light makeup, slipped into her favorite white dress, and stepped out. She watched a movie alone, ordered a couple’s meal for one, and rode the Ferris wheel in solitary silence.

When the Ferris wheel reached its peak, the sun dipped low on the horizon. The golden hues of the sunset bathed the city she had known since childhood in a tender glow. A soft breeze kissed Hazel’s face as she stretched out her arms, feeling as though her memories were unraveling and scattering into the evening wind.

As night fell, Hazel bought herself an ice cream and left the amusement park. She sat on a nearby bench, savoring the cold sweetness while gazing up at the starry sky.

The stars above had always been her solace. On those countless nights when she was cast out of her home, it was a younger Ambrose who had held her hand, lying beside her on the grass as they stared up at the heavens.

But none of that mattered now. People came and went, but the stars never faltered. No matter where she went, those same shimmering lights would always follow her, unchanging and eternal.

After finishing her ice cream, Hazel stood and began walking home. The stars above twinkled softly as her phone buzzed with a message from Scarlett.

[Dad’s sweet-and-sour fish is amazing! You’ve probably never had it, right?]

Hazel opened the attached video. It captured a lively family dinner scene. Ambrose and Scarlett sat at the center of the table, surrounded by festive red decorations. Laughter echoed in the background as their families chatted about the upcoming wedding.

Scarlett’s petty provocation didn’t anger Hazel. She had endured countless jabs like this throughout her life. Instead, she found it absurd.

Wedding plans? Whose wedding were they truly planning? Hers or Scarlett’s?

Hazel didn’t see the point in arguing with Scarlett. With a calm resolve, she deleted the message, blocked Scarlett’s number, and opened her chat with Ambrose.

Their last conversation was over a week old.

As she scrolled through the thread, a painful pattern emerged. Message after message filled the screen, and she sent each one. She had poured her heart into every word, sharing everything from her lofty dreams to the tiniest details of her meals.

Ambrose’s responses were scarce; his replies were a rarity. And when he did bother to respond, the topic was always the same: Scarlett.

Hazel suddenly lost the desire to text him back.

If her words were destined to drift into silence, why waste the effort?

She was tucking her phone back into her pocket when Ambrose’s name lit up the screen. He was calling.

“Where are you? Why aren’t you home? It’s late already. Why haven’t you come back yet?” His voice carried a mix of urgency and subtle reproach.

Tonight, he had turned down Scarlett’s invitation, a rare occurrence, and returned home early, intending to spend time with Hazel. But when he walked through the door, the one who always waited for him was nowhere to be found.

She hadn’t answered his calls or texts, and his worry had escalated to the point where he almost called the police.

Hazel glanced at the clock, feeling a knot tighten in her chest.

It was 8 PM.

Ambrose had always been one to stay out late, sometimes not returning until the early hours or, worse, disappearing for the night.

Every time, Hazel had waited in silence, leaving a light on for him.

And if he had been drinking, she would fight off sleep, rising to make him soup, hoping it would sober him up.

But what had Ambrose ever done for her?

Hazel couldn’t recall a single thing. Her patience thinned, and her tone became sharper.

“Can’t I have a life of my own?”

It was the first time she had ever dared to speak back to him.

There was a pause on the other end of the line before his voice softened.

“Hazel, I’ve missed you these past few days.”

“Tomorrow’s our wedding day. I was just worried something might happen to you. Don’t be upset. Wait for me, alright? I’m coming to get you now.”

Within minutes, Ambrose pulled up in his car, unexpectedly holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

She didn’t take the flowers. Instead, she opened the passenger door, greeted by a faint yet unmistakable scent.

A wave of nausea hit her, and she quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe her hands, choosing to climb into the back seat instead.

Ambrose, absorbed in replying to his messages, remained unaware of her discomfort.

He spoke absently, “Why’d you go to the amusement park? Have you finished with all the wedding preparations?”

“Pretty much.”

Tomorrow, she would finally leave this place behind.

Ambrose chuckled, his tone light.

“I remember you’ve always wanted to ride the Ferris wheel. When I get a chance, I’ll take you and make sure you have a wonderful day. I didn’t mean to interrupt your fun today, but my mom wants to see you.”

“It’s fine. We’ll have plenty of time for that later.”

Hazel had a lifetime of wishes, and there would always be time later to fulfill them.

After she left the country, she would tick off her list of wishes, one by one, none of them involving Ambrose.

Once Ambrose finished sending his messages, he started the car and casually played one of Scarlett’s favorite songs.

Hazel turned her gaze toward the streets, the city she had grown up in.

It was a beautiful place.

Neon lights flickered, blending seamlessly with the starlit sky in a dazzling dance of colors.

But the longer she stared, the more the wind stung her eyes, leaving them red and sore.

When they arrived at the old family house, the dining table was already piled with leftovers.

The housekeeper was clearing the dishes while the parents of both families chatted merrily.

Ambrose and Scarlett shared a laugh, their easy camaraderie filling the space.

In the midst of it all, Hazel felt like an outsider.

Her figure caught Ambrose’s eye for a fleeting moment. He saw the lonely silhouette, and his heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly, a forgotten promise resurfaced in Ambrose’s mind, one he had made years ago, vowing never to let this little girl feel sorrow again.