Chapter 3

I met Piero back in college.

I was prepping hard for a job interview, waking up early to practice on the field.

One day, I heard a chuckle, and Piero stepped out from behind the bleachers, grinning at me.

"I've heard your self-introduction for days," he said. "How about practicing with me as your interviewer? It'll feel more real."

His eyes were limpid and kind. There wasn't any hint of mocking.

Blushing, I stammered my agreement.

After that, the morning practice became our unspoken routine. We grew closer, and after graduation, we naturally became a couple.

On our second anniversary, he proposed. I said yes through tears, hugging him tightly.

I was sure he was my Mr. Right, and we planned to register our marriage that year on Valentine's Day.

Then I waited all day at City Hall, but he never showed up.

That night, he hugged me, full of apologies. "Honey, I'm so sorry. Work got in the way. Can we do it next time?"

I believed him.

Every time after that, he'd miss our registration dates for various reasons, delaying it until now. I never complained, still loving and trusting him completely.

But instead of his wife, I ended up as the other woman.

As I looked at the marriage certificate on my phone, my heart was bleeding, but for those five years, I'd get to the bottom of this.

When I got home, Piero wasn't back yet.

I called him, but the phone rang once before he rejected it.

A second later, he texted: [Honey, I'm in a meeting.]

I stared at those words, silent.

If I hadn't seen Vivian's video, I might have been fooled again.

In fact, the previous missed registrations had given me doubts. But his love and care over five years seemed so real that I brushed everything aside.

It was said that once trust broke, it was gone for good.

Now I couldn't stop wondering, 'If he tricked me about those seven registrations, what about the rest of the time? Is his kindness all fake? Are his promises all lies? When he calls me honey, is he thinking of me or Vivian?'

A chill ran through me. I didn't dare think further, feeling like a hand was choking me.

This was the worst betrayal I'd ever faced.

I texted Piero to come home immediately. He replied instantly: "Honey, I'm on my way back."

The clock ticked on.

Two hours later, Piero rushed through the door. "Ugh. Work held me up today. What's wrong, honey? Something urgent?"

He moved to hug me like always. For five years, he'd been this gentle and patient.

I didn't ask why the trip back had taken so long because I had found the answer in the comments of Vivian's video. They had been at a fountain, tossing coins and making wishes.

I stepped back, avoiding his arms, and stared at him seriously. "Today was our seventh try to register for marriage."

His smile stiffened, then shifted to a helpless look.

"Every time we plan to register, work screws it up," he sighed. "But don't worry. If it happens again, I'll quit my job. I can't lose you."

I looked into his eyes, searching for any sign of guilt. There was none.

His eyes were as clear as they were five years ago, only showing frustration with work.

But I knew better. That boy on the field was gone.

Seeing my blank expression, Piero put his arm around my shoulders. "We've been together so long. Our love is already set in stone. No rush for the certificate, right? I swear, you're the only one I'll ever marry."

He always said these soothing words after missing a registration.

Before, I thought he made sense. We were like a married couple, just missing the paper. Today, I realized it wasn't just a piece of paper separating us. It was an uncrossable gap.

His wife was not me. I was, at best, his mistress.

I looked at him, expressionless. "When you say honey, are you talking to me or Vivian, the woman on your marriage certificate?"