7
Ethan left with my dress. Looking at the empty room, I gave a bitter smile. I finally understood why the dress, even after I’d mended it, still looked strange. Like our relationship, once broken, it couldn’t be whole again.
At eleven that night, after showering, I opened my phone. A trending topic blasted across social media.
#A love story beyond life and death between a woman with depression and her childhood sweetheart
The photo was blurry, but I recognized Ethan, who was clutching the wedding dress outside the emergency room. His expression was a mixture of worry, despair and hope. Plus his red–rimmed eyes, it was enough to make many netizens swoon.
“This is so sweet! So beautiful! I hope the girl gets better soon.”
“This is a real–life Romeo and Juliet!”
Reading the comments, a wave of bitter irony washed over me. The wedding dress I’d poured my heart into became a symbol Chloe and Ethan’s love story.
Jopened my photo album and deleted every picture of Ethan. Thousands of images and three years of memories were deleted in under five minutes. I systematically purged everything related to him from my phone.
Finally, I opened my Twitter. I saw countless likes and comments from the posts I made a year ago about Ethan. Our first kiss on campus. Our promise to keep our virginity for our wedding night, and the matching tattoos we’d gotten.
The comment section was full of requests for updates and questions about our wedding. I stared at the posts, feeling the words tear at my soul.
I took a deep breath, tapped the screen, and sent the last post.
“His love isn’t just for me. We’ve broken up. The story ends here. Thank you for watching.”
And with that, Ethan and I were truly over.
In the days leading up to my training, I emptied and reorganized my apartment.
I saw Ethan two days later. I was packing when he barged in. His voice was frantic.
“Natalie, the French rug, the colored indicator lamp, and the subtitle projector… Where are those your favorite things?”
I
put
down my clothes, pointed to my ear, and said calmly, “I can hear now. I don’t need them.”
Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he saw me packing. His expression darkened. “Why are you packing?”
I glanced at him, a smile playing on my lips.“Didn’t you book me a flight to Switzerland? It’s two days later.”
His unease lingered. I hadn’t responded to any of his messages. He knew I was angry, and my calmness made him uneasy.
“Natalie, I hired a designer to perfectly replicate your wedding dress. We’ll have it ready for our wedding.”
“No need,” I said flatly. I’d already given him up; did the dress matter?
Ethan’s heart sank; his anxiety intensified.
“How can you not need it? Natalie, I know you’re mad at me. As soon as Chloe is better, we’ll have our wedding. Then we’ll go on our honeymoon–to see the Northern Lights, to see the pyramids, just like we planned!”
He spoke rapidly, his voice laced with insecurity. He was desperate for my agreement.
I asked the question that had been brewing inside me. “Ethan, if you’re so eager to marry me, why the postponement? You said you were busy, but you always found time for Chloe.”
The man who had been talking incessantly paused.
Seeing his hesitation, I changed the subject.“Her condition must be serious. Is she stable now?”
Ethan nodded. “Yes, she’ll start the final treatment soon. Her depression will be completely cured.*
I smiled. “That’s great.”
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Despite everything going according to Ethan’s plan, he felt worried. A sense of impending loss made him anxious. I, on the other hand, slept
steady.
The next morning, I found my last post had created a storm.
The fairy tale of redemption officially ends in tragedy.
The hashtag remained at the top of the trending list. Overnight, netizens had dug up my information and identified the male lead.
I med to contact media friends to have it removed.
Then, with a loud bang, my bedroom door burst open. Ethan, who was still in his lab coat, strode in. His face was grim and tense as he seized my wrist. His voice was icy.
Nale, come with me to the hospital. Chloe tried to kill herself because of you!”
<8
