He Gave Her My Wedding, I Divorced Him

Chapter 3

The clerk added, "The custom-made one was given to Ms. Vivienne Pierce."

Vivienne, my younger sister's name.

I stood in the air-conditioned room, yet broke out in a cold sweat.

Five years ago, he had already given the ring that symbolized happiness to Vivienne.

He even showered her with absolute favoritism and meticulous care in every aspect of life.

But all that remained for me was the empty space on our marriage certificate.

I smiled and smiled, until tears fell.

A message from the bridal shop suddenly popped up.

Bridal shop: Madam, it's time for your wedding dress fitting. There are other customers with appointments after you. Please try to be quick.

Nico and I had been married for five years, yet had never held a wedding.

Over the past five years, something always seemed to come up.

Vivienne falling ill, his flight crew being called in for overtime, the church being unavailable, and so on.

Nico always told me to wait a little longer. And that "little while" turned into five years.

It wasn't until this year that I joked with him, saying if we didn't hold a belated wedding ceremony soon, I wouldn't want him anymore.

Only then did he start planning the wedding with me.

I rushed to the bridal shop, only to see Nico and Vivienne.

Vivienne was wearing the custom wedding dress made exclusively for me, her brows slightly furrowed.

She complained that the schedule was too tight and that she still had other things to try on.

Nico, the man who couldn't tolerate any disruption to his plans, was bending down to gently adjust her veil.

I watched this scene through the shop window, and tears fell without warning.

Half a year ago during a date, I was cramping on my period and was five minutes late leaving the house.

He had driven to the destination early and told me to take a taxi there alone.

Inside the restaurant, his expression was cold as he reminded me not to make a habit of running late.

He didn't look at me once, not even when the pain made my legs go weak.

I had once asked him to cut me some slack, but he said the rules didn't bend for anyone.

So why did she get a pass?

Nico had stepped out for some air when he saw me.

Instinctively, he blocked my view of Vivienne.

But when his gaze fell on my soaked shirt and deathly pale face, the tension in his shoulders eased.

He draped his jacket over my shoulders and asked, "How did you get like this?"

I pushed him away, my voice surprisingly calm. I demanded, "How could she be wearing my wedding dress?"

Nico stopped me, his voice dropping. He said, "She's built just like you. Let her try it on. What's wrong with humoring a little girl's dream?"

I shoved him hard and rushed into the store.

Vivienne shrieked and yanked the fitting curtain shut, hiding inside and refusing to make a sound.

I grabbed the curtain. All I had to do was pull it open to see Vivienne's face.

I could expose the truth, yet I couldn't do it.

I just wanted them to tell me that none of this was real.

On my phone was the screenshot of the engagement ring he had ordered for her.

I demanded, "Nico, you tell me, what is your relationship with Vivienne? Or should I show the photos and let everyone know?"

But Nico showed no panic. He just looked thoroughly annoyed.

He snapped, "Have you finished making a scene? Have you no shame?"

Then he continued, "She's your own sister. If you could suspect even her of such things, just how dark can you be?"

I suddenly recalled the past, when the three of us lived together.

I was always the one washing dishes and doing chores, while Vivienne lounged in the air conditioning, binge-watching dramas.

Nico would rub her stomach when she was on her period.

If I ever voiced an objection, he would always snap at me.

"Your sister is uncomfortable. As her older sister, shouldn't you care for her more instead of making a fuss about propriety?"

"You're fighting your own sister for my attention. Have you lost your mind?"

He was always doing couple activities with her.

Hitting up viral restaurants, taking photos at Disneyland, doing DIY projects.

The living room wall was covered with their photos together, yet there wasn't a single one of me.

Thinking of this, my heart gave a sharp pang.

Time and again, I tolerated their overstepping boundaries; time and again, I swallowed my pride.

Yet in his eyes, I was simply being unreasonable and twisted.

The last shred of hope lingering in my heart disappeared as well.

The hem of that wedding dress, the one meant to symbolize happiness, peeked out.

I lunged forward like a madwoman, wanting to tear it to shreds.

Nico shouted, "Stop!"

A hard shove slammed into my shoulder blade, sending me staggering backward.

My heel caught on a pedestal, and I fell.

My lower back slammed against the wooden floor, the pain making my vision go dark.

But I didn't cry. I simply watched quietly as Nico protectively shielded Vivienne behind him.

His face was full of disgust, as if I had committed some unforgivable sin.

At that moment, I truly felt utterly exhausted.

I slowly pushed myself up from the floor, my voice perfectly calm. I said, "Nico, I want a divorce."